Thursday 16 June 2011

at the starting line

okay. a writer needs a blog, they say. it helps you let some steam out, it helps you get used to writing all the time, and (most importantly, though no one wants to admit it) it helps when you get published and people want to read all about you and your quirky isms. nevermind the fact that you've had 2562 posts sitting there uncommented on and lonesome over the past twenty years.

oh i've blogged before, and it's never really bothered me whether i'm 'read' or not. i just like the way the words look onscreen. and anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that i can ramble on for ages at the slightest provocation. see, i was an only child for five years and used to talk to myself a fair bit (and if you're to believe The Flatmate, i still do it.. but more on that specimen of nature later) so rattling away comes easily. the thing is knowing when to stop (which i appear to be doing an exceptional job at).

right, to sound more writerly (go away squiggly red line, i'm deeming that a word) i'm going to throw in a word count for today. oooh, i think i ought to do that everyday. might help with motivation and all that hoo-ha. i tried doing that once, and ended up with a confusing heap of coloured post-its with random numbers scrawled on them. they looked so pretty though, so i ended up sticking them on my wall to brighten up my room. i also ended up confusing myself with one rather lovely scottish bloke who used to live in a hatch on an island that no one knew existed. I'll see you in another life, brother.

but where was i? word count, yes. well, i appear to have written the grand total of 1152 words today. not a lot considering the fact that it's all i've been doing, but i sort of started on something new (she says mysteriously) and i can't seem to figure out what genre it is. wait, scratch that. it isn't my fault. the dratted thing can't seem to decide whether it's dark comedy or vaguely children's fiction-ish. i don't know, kids seem to read a lot of crap these days. it could swing either way.

aww, i now have a sudden urge to read heaps of enid blyton. hello amazon, here i come. oooh or the lovely old shop down the road that has first editions and secondhand books from the 50's and 60's. dammit, i wish i had some money.