The dog is snoring on my lap; she’s used to these hours of immobility as I wait desperately for the next paragraph, the next sentence, even the next word (letter?), to inspire me; to move my writing on. I re-read what I have already written; alter a word here and there, marvel that I have created a wonderful story, despair that the work I produced yesterday now reads so deadly boring; blundering its way to an ending that is so obviously uninspired.
I haven’t blogged before.
Until this last year I didn’t understand what it was or why anyone would want to write one. After all writing time is precious, I thought, why spend it doing this rather than producing another manuscript to hide away in the filing cabinet; neatly typed, spell-checked, double-spaced, edited ten times and protected in a folder. But then I started reading other people’s blogs and I realised I wasn’t alone. Other writers suffer from the same self-doubts and fears; scared of rejection, of being proved that the poem, the short story, the novel they have created is something that no one else would want to read.
So, eventually and with great trepidation, I bundled up my manuscript and, giving the envelope one last pat, posted it. Of course it came back – numerous times.
But 2010 is my year. I know, I know, as my family and so called friends tell me so often, I said the same about 2000,200I, 2002 and so on and so on. But I have persevered and even had some small successes, But this year it’s all coming true; this year my book will be published; this year I will be the one doing book launches and book signings. So what if no-one turns up other than me and a representative from Honno (my publishers): I will be there!
Judith Barrow BA MA