Before I could physically write, I was already, in a sense, a writer.
I invented people, worlds, and situations. I daydreamed, and also “played games”, assigning roles to my brother and friends. I talked to myself, as well. Past tense…? Well, not entirely – because I’m a writer, and writers are weird. That’s my excuse, anyway.
When I was five or six, and able to go beyond the formation of individual sentences, I wrote my first stories.
I was that child who loved writing stories at school, so much that I wrote my own, out of choice.
I found Maths boring and difficult.
I have the co-ordination disorder dyspraxia – which, at the time, was undiagnosed – and was, therefore, useless at the so-called “fun” activities. This covered pretty much every sport, basically. Yes, that’s right – not a fan of PE.
I was bullied relentlessly, right through school, and struggled with depression and anxiety, from a very young age.
I never fitted in, and longed to, but if I had, then maybe I would have been happy but ordinary, and not a writer. It was the one thing that I was able to do better than average, and I focused on that.
I do have periods of writers’ block, for want of a better term.
I also have long reading slumps.
I don’t write every day. I would like to say that I do, but I don’t. That’s just the truth.
I have also been let down many times, by people I thought I could rely upon – family members, who have been less than supportive, to put it mildly – and so-called “friends”, who have hurt me deeply.
Poetry, although not my original passion, has often helped me through.
I will probably write a post specifically about my poetry journey, at some point.
I do also have a novel that I’m working on, sporadically – an old project, which I revived in recent years.
I’m making slow progress, but getting there. It’s a project that means so much to me, more than I can express – and yet, I’m terrified of failure. Sometimes, the fear leaves me paralysed, and I don’t get anything done at all.
However, I believe in what I’m doing, with all my heart, and know that I have to finish my book.
I did finish another, and shelved the first draft, without revising, which I am okay with. I felt, and still do, that finishing was enough, in that instance.
This post was originally published on my previous blog, and I simply made a few minor adjustments.
Since then, I have developed more of an interest in blogging. I plan to focus much more on this aspect of my writing in 2018 – and do also hope to make more progress on my novel, than I have in previous years.
Also, my piece about writing dark fiction, may be of interest.
Writing is my life.
I’ve been in some dark places, and I truly believe that I wouldn’t be here without my fiction and poetry – and increasingly so, my blog.
Believe in yourself and your dreams.
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