There are not enough hours in the day. Fact. If there were more hours in the day I would be able to fit in everything I am dying to do each day. I’d like to:
Spend lots of time writing random things – free writing etc.
Spend time writing my novel.
Search for a job I’d actually enjoy.
Continue with my writing course.
Lots of other stuff I can’t remember.
Or maybe if we could have a longer weekend – say three days, maybe even four. I’d like to go on and on about this, but I simply don’t have the time.
I’m re reading the last modules for my writing course – they teach the nitty gritty behind writing an article. A thought came to me the other day – writing an article is similar to writing an essay at school: First you research; then you look at all the information you have; you plan the order you’re going to write it; write it; then edit it. Only hopefully make it more interesting than a school essay! Having had this thought, I am now feeling more confident about writing one. I think I’d be even more confident about it if I was happy with the subject matter. I like it, I’m just not all that sure about it.
Oh no. I’ve just found something to take up more of my time – today at least. Last night the man in my life told me about an idea for a novel he’d had (he is on fire at the moment), but he didn’t think he’d be able to write it. It’s kind of comedy/dark humour/mystery. Think kind of Ben Elton-ish. I also don’t think I’d be able to write something like that, but for something to write today, I’m writing a synopsis for it. It sounds really good. Maybe one day…
That’s all folks. Why oh why do I love that so much?