This time next year...

Well with a clearer head today, I have decided to crack on with the jobs around the house.

I finally have a lawn mower - yeah - I know you have all been worried about the length of my grass, (you wouldn't be the first) - and I can proudly say not only has my lawn been mowed, (no euphemism here, so settle down) but I have also weeded, cleaned the bathrooms and hoovered.

I even got caught up on a little TV - again no euphemism intended.  So things are getting straighter.

B and C are on their way home, and life is groovy, or at least it will be ultra fantastic in about ten sleeps time.

I have also started to write something a little more in depth than a blog. An actual story. I am loathe to call it a book, or a novel, as it is currently only 6 pages long, however if I put my mind to it I might actually have something worth reading and then using for tomorrow's chip paper.

Setting my sights high as always!

I have tried many times to write a book and compile the next bestseller, however I have only ever once actually finished a full length story and I think that was when I was rehabilitating after an appendicitis operation, and was probably high on painkillers...well, that it is my reason for it being so shit anyway.

But it has always been a dream of mine to write something that someone might actually enjoy. I don't think I will be the next JK Rowling, or even the next EL James (I couldn't never write a serious sex scene that referred to 'down there' without laughing hysterically;) but maybe, just maybe I could be an author, we all have to dream don't we?

So support is required. The trouble with me is I write down a few chapters, then start re-reading over what I have done, over edit and then decide it is complete pants. It is possible that what I am writing is indeed pants, however what I really need to do is just get the damn thing written and let others be the judge.

It is very hard exposing yourself like this. No one likes to be criticised, and essentially told that no, what I have written is a seriously bad romcom, and should be burnt with lighter fuel immediately. So I need to do this for myself - perhaps a new amendment to my life list. Finish a whole story before I am forty one.

The blog has been very cathartic, and it has got me into the habit of writing again. However, the blog is instant and goes out into the big world wide web without too many changes (I am not saying it doesn't need editing), but once it has been written it goes out there for anyone and the one person in Hong Kong, who does indeed follow me, to read.

So any authors out there who want to give advice, please feel free; I have my plot, my main characters, my midpoint but have no idea what my resolution will be. Maybe they will just do their own thing and find their own solution to the crisis that is about to befall them.

I find that guess work, fumbling around for answers and generally living page by page works in real life - so why wouldn't it work in a book?