It’s that time of the month again...I’ve been trembling and muttering to myself for the past couple of days. Blog time. I was NEVER going to blog. Never going to sign up to Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn. Fb got me because it was the only means of communicating with an ebook provider, now defunct. I was seduced into Twitter by promises of what it would do for my profile and therefore, maybe, book sales. Ho ho ho. LinkedIn? Can’t remember. Blogging, though, and every month, at that, is part of belonging to AE and tremble and mutter though I may, I see it as a blessing. It has given me something I struggle with: discipline. Every month, whether there is a single coherent thought in my head or not, whether I’m depressed, sick, burdened, hungover, woolly-headed or not, I must write something, somehow. And not just any old thing, but something other people will read! Highly Esteemed people. Is it any wonder that I quiver and mutter? Here’s the thing, though: there’s feedback from those same H.E. people. I fall over myself to get at it on the morning of 20th and if the day ever comes when no-one has commented, I will have to fall on my sword. Comments are always kind and encouraging, but that doesn’t mean they can be dismissed as just little pats on the back. They spur me on.
There’s more. I’ve been writing picture book texts for what seems like ever. I thought I knew how to do it. Of late, however, nobody wants my stuff. Am I all washed up? It seems not. Having to write something for adults in the blog, no matter how short, has given me a push into trying other kinds of writing. Hey, I have short stories in A Flash in the Pen 1 and 2! A poem in the Emma Press Anthology of Age. The ebook site Cutalongstory has published one story, The Gracie and Bella War, rejected one (weak ending), published one for children, Naz and the Djinn.
I’m still learning, of course. And trying again. And sending stuff out. Thank you, AE. You are, individually and severally, inspirational.
Stopping now. Stuff to write.