I’ve been trying for ages now to write. A book, that is. A novel. A full story.
It’s not for lack of ideas that I haven’t. I currently have four proper ideas down. A little bit thought out, planned and actually stored for future use. Two of them have been started in earnest.
If this were twenty odd years ago there would be reams of paper laying about with scribbles on but as it is its all just digital now, but the idea is the same.
I have worked out today ( I think I’ve known for ages) why I haven’t done much with them; why they only stay as ideas and never become best sellers.


What if my ideas aren’t any good? What if what I write is totally shit. Awful. What if my novel became the literary version of the Twilight movies (crap)? What if I am to literature what Jedward are to music.
What if people HATE me? I’m not sure I could handle that. Maybe I’ll never find out. Maybe ill write a book, some people will like it, others won’t.

Maybe I should change my attitude and be more like Tim Minchin; cest la vie.


I’ll try that.