Obssessive, Compulsive (Sad) Writer

This last month I’ve hardly been out. I’ve been obsessed – with writing. And writing. And did I mention: writing? Whilst Mr. F. has been tearing up the road on his bike training for The Tour of Flanders, I’ve struggled to make  it round the corner to the shops.  My social life has been bleaker than Scarborough North landing at the end of November. My characters are my friends. I’ve been living their lives. Ha – sad, loner writer, imprisoned in the attic with nothing but chocolate and Rufus* for company!

Last week saw me exhausted and depressed, flat on my back. I could hardly move – my back was killing me. In retrospect, I needed to stop. (I needed the joys of daytime TV and trashy novels again.)

all days are nights

Well I’m back writing and blogging this week, more determined than ever. I will finish chapters twenty nine and thirty. “State of my Heart” is going to be finished! Speaking of Rufus there’s another reason I’m smiling this week – I saw him at City Hall at the weekend.

 

* I was listening to*Rufus  Wainwright: “All Days Are Nights”

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