It’s a trite title on a gorgeous sunny Saturday, but I had to start somewhere with today’s offering and I’m running late... About eight hours late.
I write my daily blog as soon as I get to my desk with my first cup of tea at about 8 o’clock in the morning. It’s called discipline, folks, and it’s fine for now, although, 52 blogs in 52 days does rather beg the question of how long I can keep this up, and, indeed, how long you’ll put up with me.
It took me forty years to write my first novel, and forty weeks after that I had the second written and was on to the third. Of course, I’ll never write a novel in forty days, but what I’m trying to say is that, if you’re lucky, you might get to do something creative with your time. I’ve found my little seam of luck and I plan to plunder and exploit it every day for as long as it lasts.
Some people have long writing careers, and the husband is a good example of that, and some people have short ones. Some writers find the wherewithal to write a book a year, or even more, and some write only two or three over a lifetime. It’s far too early to tell what sort of writer I’m going to be. The only thing that’s certain is that I did an awful lot of other things, for a very long time, before I finally sat down and did the one thing I really thought I could make a difference doing.
Now that I’ve sat down, I’m finding it very difficult to get up again, and that’s why I was at my desk at 7-30 this morning working on edits. I stopped at 2-30 to have a spot of brunch with the husband, and now my day begins in earnest.
Perhaps I should have written my blog at 8 o’clock this morning, as I have almost every other morning for the past six weeks or so, but I was busy making hay while the sun shines, and long may it continue.
Now, off you go and find a ray or two of your own.