Concentrating the mind

There’s nothing like a public declaration of a deadline to concentrate the mind.

Having gone more than three months without committing a single word to paper – conveniently blaming work, life, weather, you name it  – for my inaction, I’ve been energised and enervated since posting that little teaser of Andrew’s story just over a fortnight ago.

I’ve been writing since I was in primary school. Okay, smart arses, so have all of us. What I mean is that I’ve always been driven to write since I was first able to put pen to paper. It’s what I do.

But I haven’t actually written for pleasure, for pure creativity since I was a teenager.

Barely a week went by when I didn’t pen a short story – I’m not even embarrassed to tell you that in primary school, I’d take my efforts in to show the teacher, having added my own reviews at the end, in the style of those potboiler paperbacks found knocking around our house: “A rare new talent. The New York Times.” “Effortless storytelling. The Wall Street Journal.”

I know – what a horribly precocious little toerag!

My creative writing stopped when I went to work as a reporter. Suddenly when you spend all day writing, it’s a bit of a busman’s holiday to go home and do more.

So I got out of the way of writing for sheer pleasure. And rediscovering that creative part of myself has been quite fantastic.

No matter what happens with this project, I think it’s fair to say I’ll be doing a lot more writing – and soon.

I’ll hold off on those self-penned reviews, though …

PS If anyone who’s already done it can point to a good self-publishing website, I’d be rather grateful. Cheers.

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