At the beginning of this year, I had already begun to write my latest story. It had been on my mind for a while, and in my head at least, I had the bones of it already in place.
That’s when everything started to conspire against me.
Pain, paralysis and much confusion landed, and this is not the right atmosphere for writing.
But I persevered. To be honest, it was the only thing keeping me going in the beginning, even though I have come to realise that what I was creating, wasn’t really worth the paper it was written on.
For a long time, I didn’t want to admit to this. My life was a mess, but my writing was a lifeline, and surely the editing would take care of any problems?
But the more I tried to convince myself, the more I knew I was kidding myself.
It was when I reached the middle that I couldn’t ignore what was missing any longer. Where was the magic, the excitement? Being unable to slow down or God forbid that I stop writing, I had been avoiding the truth. I had been staring at a half written chapter for weeks, trying desperately to make it work.
What I didn’t realise at the time, was this magic had been trying just as hard to make an appearance, and I had been ignoring what was right in front of me for weeks.
This last few days, something very odd has been happening every time I look at the manuscript. Something that will probably need a lot of patience and an awful lot of re writing.
Hopefully, I am on the right track this time…
Love always
Jaye 💕
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