My most valuable lesson in writing

I’m pleased to report that my difficulties with technology have not stopped me from my writing. I’m really enjoying the process of accomplishing my daily writing goals and feel that I’m consistently moving forward on my various projects. Having broken down my various aims into daily, weekly and monthly goals I can easily identify that I’m on track and feel proud of myself for managing to contribute so regularly to my desire to be a writer – which I now most definitely feel I am.

A year or so ago my day-dream was about me writing regularly, living the life of someone who placed writing at the heart of their life and was able to create something from nothing through the craft of recording words on the page. I do honestly feel that I have succeeding in this dream for the most part, and the only piece missing, perhaps, is the long-term commitment to finish that which I have started – even if it is only in a first draft format. I believe I can do this now, which seems a long way away from the wannabe writer that I was a year or so ago.

My day-dreams now are expanding. I’m beginning to imagine myself as a published author. I have a desire to share what I write with the world; the stories deserve to be told – I’ve created characters and situations that have come to life and need to be read to be perpetually alive in the imagination. Of course, a part of me also wants to share my writing because I am proud of it and I am beginning to feel that it might one day be of the standard that might allow publishing. What a dream come true that would be.

I think the most valuable lesson I’ve learnt so far is that my originally dream of writing – the one where I would spend my days walking the dog, writing, having a leisurely lunch and then writing again before a second walk with the dog – isn’t so much a dream as it seems to be reality now. Only, the dream is much harder work to maintain than I originally imagined. Being a writer takes a lot of perseverance and hard graft. It provides challenges on a regular basis and takes a lot of patience and time. It’s much more of a mind-set in in itself than I first anticipated, and it’s one that I have to continually groom so as not to forget where I started and where I want to end up.

Not that I’m complaining. I’m actually really pleased that it’s ended up being such a difficult, challenging habit to maintain. I like that it’s hard work. It makes me feel deserving of the accolade of ‘writer’, it makes me proud to know that I can do it now, when on previous occasions I have given up in the face of such labour. Writing isn’t an airy-fairy activity, it is a perpetual game of convincing myself that I can write a little more, that I can get to know this fictitious character I have created, that I am capable of stringing together words and sentences and paragraphs into a unified whole in order to make someone else believe in a world that exists nowhere else but in my own mind.

Writing, sometimes, is a struggle but at the moment it seems to me that this in itself makes it all the more worthwhile to try.

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