It’s been said many times, but it bears repeating: I love writing. I have always loved writing. At school, the days on which my English teacher said, ‘Homework tonight is to write a story!’ were the days I loved best. Homework? Writing’s not work, it’s pure pleasure! Even as my classmates were moaning and groaning at the assignment, I’d already be working on storylines in my head, eager to get started.
Nothing’s changed a few decades on. My passion for writing hasn’t dimmed in the slightest; in fact, the more I write the more I want to write. Often after writing all day I will continue to write into the evening, with my partner imploring me to stop working and relax.
‘It’s all right,’ I reply. ‘I’m not working, I’m writing.’
In addition to fiction I write blog posts, reviews, interviews, and bit by bit people are starting to read my work. Nothing compares to the thrill of discovering that my website has gained another subscriber, or my blog has a thumbs up. Logging on to my computer is a joy at the moment; the delicious anticipation, followed by the excitement at discovering my latest post has received a new comment. I’m not naive enough to think the comments will always be favourable, and I’m already bracing myself for the first bad review my novel receives when it’s published next month. The thought that someone will one day pick holes in my baby scares me rigid, but I realise reviews are the lifeblood of new authors so I’ll be brave and take the bad along with the good. After all, a constructive criticism can be easily turned into a lesson learnt.
To date, though, I have had nothing but positive feedback for my blog posts, reviews, interviews. Whenever a stranger takes the time to read my writing and leave a comment it gives my sometimes fragile confidence such a massive boost. Every retweet on Twitter, every like on Facebook, every follower of my blog is another reason to keep writing, and every single recognition is important to me.
Thank you all. Happy Friday!