I am writing. Since my last post I can’t help but writing, but I have stuffed my face with sweets all weekend. Why? To keep the anxiety levels down, because it’s so scary! I can’t explain it. I have no idea why I’m afraid, but I’m mildly excited too. Please let nothing come in my way now!
My story has taken so long to write mainly because I had to live it first. I thought I was held back by my fears and the ghosts in my head, but I didn’t have the ending. Now I do!
At least I think I do. My intuition tells me I’m right, but what if my life hits me in the face again? Like when you walk through the leaves and the rake hidden underneath hits you on the nose.
I’m speaking of the Jobcenter. If I could just finish my book – or first draft – then I would finally be able to focus on finding a paid job. I wish the Universe helps me out. I don’t have far to go. Please!?
My First Reader
A friend is going to read the first 35 pages (I didn’t dare give her more), which scares the living daylights out of me. What if the story can’t capture a reader? At the moment it’s basically like reading a diary, and we all know how boing that can be.
The beginning is more worked on, but what I’m writing now isn’t so much a story in the sense of scenes and action. The bit I’m writing now is more about reflection and inner processes.
OMG! She told me she’d be reading it sometime within the coming 3 weeks. If she doesn’t like it, what do I do? I know the story isn’t for everyone, but I so wish she likes it. Even though it might need tons of more work.
Anyway, the game is on. I’m at it again.
Photo: Ingrid Carlsson ©