My desire to write has brought me at last to a place that is quiet and bereft
of distractions. I have been awake since 8 a.m. and it is only now (5:06 p.m.) that
I have actually stopped doing the busy work (checking emails, deciding what to have
for breakfast and lunch, taking out the pet in my care, etc.) and actually sat down
It is true what I heard not long ago, writing is an invisible job. No one knows you
are actually creating anything until it comes out and often it takes years before a
story is properly structured and can be read as a book.
Wish me lucK in this endeavour. I have left all my notes with my protagonist’s angst
safely stored in a place I cannot access it right now. What is that all about?
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