harder than it looks

I’ve always wanted to be a writer. When I was a child, I did write. All the time. When most other kids were watching TV or playing football or French-plaiting each other’s hair, I spent my evenings writing stories, poems and plays until one of my parents made me go to bed, and then I would get my torch out and read until the small hours. (My eyesight is rubbish, in case you were wondering.)

But at some point, and for some reason, I stopped. I can’t remember whether I lost interest, became too self-conscious or got too busy, but by the time I was in my teens I was no longer dreaming up elaborate works of fiction. Instead, I was more preoccupied with taming my frizzy hair and worrying about whether I was a bit fat. And so, the stories petered out.

Of course, I didn’t stop writing altogether. I have a BA in English literature and three years’ worth of essays to prove it. I’ve also spent the last couple of years in a job which involved a fair amount of writing, not that any of it was particularly creative. But recently, the urge to start again has been getting stronger and stronger.

Why now?

To tell you the truth, I have time on my hands. I am currently “between jobs” (such a diplomatic euphemism) and temporarily living with my parents while I look for a new one. Over the last few weeks I’ve been keeping myself amused by reading blogs and wondering whether or not to start my own, as a way of easing myself back into writing and rediscovering the creativity I lost somewhere along the way.

So this is it… My first toe in the water. I have no idea what I will end up writing about. Probably just bits and pieces of my life, to begin with. Maybe one day I’ll write a poem or a short story and be brave enough to post it. Who knows?

PS – writing a first blog post is much harder than it looks. But then, I suppose that’s true of most things.


2 thoughts on “harder than it looks

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