The end of the year is rapidly approaching and I don’t have time for all the things I want to do.
I wish I didn’t have to work so I could spend more time writing, but the truth of the matter is I need to make the time to write.
When I do finally isolate myself, and believe me I need to be alone, I’m quite productive. But like most people I feel I have so much to do that I feel guilty when I sit and write.
I can’t listen to music when I write – although I’ve never tried any sort of instrumental music. I really love my music, and I find I can’t just listen to it as background. It’s the same when I’m marking papers. Even a quick “How’s it going?” from my wife throws out my rhythm completely.
But I love writing, and I recently decided that I was going to spend more time practising the craft. I’ve recently entered a couple of competitions. (I entered one a few months ago, but didn’t place. Bah! What does a published author turned judge know about good writing?) One of these competitions, Writers of the Future, has excellent prizes – trips to the US for workshops, cash, large shiny trophies, awards ceremonies – but also has a lot of stiff competition.
I live in hope.
Post a Comment