bottles old colourMy novel is unfinished. Amy, my main character is still holding her breath on the other side of a closed door. It’s like leaving the play station on pause in my head. I have walked away forgetting her…….and it’s a crying shame because she is worth the read. She is worth a late night or ten. She is worth my time. Absolutely. So why I do ignore her ? Why is she at the bottom of my list. Yes , even under F&;$@ing Candy crush.

For months I have procrastinated my writing worth and where exactly I want it to take me ; or more to the point – where I take it.  I love to read . I enjoy the company of other writers. Any genre will do. But I write for another audience. Its a catch 22 I find myself in.
I know my genre. I know who will want to read it. But it’s not who I hang out with. It’s a part of me, but it’s not the whole of me. I cannot stereotype this blog, or my writing for the sake of following the blog code of sticking to my genre. Fuck the genre. For once, I am leaving a swear word in and that’s that.

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