*creeps out of writing cave, blinking into the light*
I’m feeling rather bad because I haven’t done much on the blogging front for the last month or so, and I’m feeling
a little very unworthy of my Readership Award. Sorry guys.
The thing is that writing is going really well at the moment. Like REALLY well. It’s the writing equivalent of gambolling through a field of poppies under a blue sky. It’s awesome and exhilerating. It’s fun. I’m leaping out of bed in the mornings, hurrying to the computer so I can begin my day’s writing. And most of all, I’m happy with what I’m writing, which is as rare and precious an occurrence as a sunny day in England. And they are rare and precious indeed!
Anyway, I’m making hay while the sun shines. The difficulties will inevitably come back, the insecurity and all the rest, and that’s fine: it’s part and parcel of being a writer. But for now I want to enjoy this time and make the most of it and so I’m writing all the time. Literally. I write all day, most evenings and on weekends. When I’m not writing I’m reading as voraciously as I can, dissecting the masters and trying to learn all I can. And when I’m not reading or writing I’m thinking about The Novel, leaving myself voice memos on my phone, and scribbling notes into notepads.
It leaves me with very little time for other things, including this blog; I don’t remember the last time I checked Twitter. I feel so out of the loop! Getting me to put my writing aside is about as easy as coaxing a badger out of its set. But hopefully it will be all worth it when I have an awesome book out there in the world. I’m going to try and have it finished by early next year which is so close it’s quite scary! And so much to do still!
Wish me luck, cos I’m going to need it.
And on that quick note, I’m returning to my writing cave (or to my badger set!). Speak to you soon!
PS: I’ve always thought that badger sets would be rather like hobbit holes, with little comfy chairs and brightly painted wooden tables. And badgers smoking calabash pipes, and drinking tea. That’s what my imaginary writing cave is like.