I’m a writer.

Actually, I only believe I’m a writer. By today’s standard measures of a writer, I perform rather poorly. I make no money from my craft, I’m unknown to the community, and I struggle with public speaking. I’ve never had any work published, and my longest manuscript achieved the lofty pinnacle of just sixty thousand words before I decided it was rather tedious. It remains filed away somewhere, incomplete and trapped between a thirty-thousand-word novella and an eighty-thousand-word novel.

People often ask me why I haven’t finished “that book” yet. I’ve had long enough. It should be in the hands of at least an agent by now, or on the plates of a publishing house with my second in an editor’s email account. I suppose they’re right; so, why haven’t I finished “that book” yet? Once upon a time, I would say that writing a book isn’t as easy as watching TV, that getting one published isn’t as easy as getting a paper graded. I would have a string of excuses ready for when they invariably asked me what I was talking about.

I’ve had opportunities in the past to break the mould. I started my own editing business. I studied postgraduate creative writing at university and even find my way back there every now and again; one day, I might have a PhD. I took a short-lived break from the drudgery of retail to see what would happen. I even started this blog and didn’t touch it for a year. The problem is I always stagnate when I should gain momentum; I always put my work down when I should hold it up, for better or worse.

I don’t want to do that anymore.

I’m not happy unless I’m writing, and I won’t get anywhere unless I start inviting people into my stories; into my short, little worlds.

So, welcome to my blog. In it, I will talk, and I will write. Feel free to share anything and everything you find here, but please give credit where it’s due and don’t forget to link back to the source.

Thanks for visiting. I hope you enjoy your stay!