This blog started out as a way to flex my fingers, an assurance that, nonsense or inspired prose, something would be written at regular intervals. What seems to have happened, is that I spend so much time on my blog, that I don't have time left for the, uh, the actual writing. I'm supposed to be entering a novel competition at the end of this month. And instead of working on this novel, and cartwheeling towards notoriety, I'm here, with you.
I'm not complaining; It's lovely being with you.
I just seem to have very firmly drifted into reality, and left my fiction on the back step. So I'll keep it quick (ensuring that the rest of my lunch break is very productive, all fifteen minutes of it).
I think, I plan, I might, start putting up bits of fiction on here to be judged by your scathing eyes. Par example, a teeny weeny excerpt of this so called novel of mine. Which I am like, totally dedicated to right now. You know, trying to write a book, a book that actually warrants attention, is like having a whingey toddler pulling on your sleeve with a snotty nose; you don't really want to tend to it, but you can't really leave it in a supermarket (unless you're very crafty).
And on that note of abandoning children, I will depart to spend some quality time with the blank page.
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