Turning A Corner

Well I have to admit that yesterday was one of the best days I have had in a long time. I struggle so much with focus and my constant procrastination over even little things that I wonder if I will ever get anything done that I want. This coupled together with the joy of depression (yes I am being sarcastic here) I amaze myself at my ability to even do the simplest of tasks some days. This overwhelming level of “CBA syndrome” (Can’t Be Arsed syndrome for anyone who doesn’t read my blog regularly) is a daily struggle and I often feel like I am in a constant struggle against myself, not really knowing the solution to resolve this annoyance that is..well….me.  Oh I would say “Right today I am going to write, I am going to focus and do it.” But then I would simply be sat staring at a blank page willing the words to come out, but nothing did and then I would go off and do something else. But yesterday something happened. I actually sat down and did it.. I wrote something. I wrote a lot and by a lot, I mean I spent the entire day writing, rewriting my novel and I finished it. Albeit with a few areas to fine tune but I did it!

Yesterday I felt like an actual writer for the first time in a long time. It was like I had often imagined it should be, just me sat at my desk in my library, (by that I mean my spare room crammed with books) writing. For the first time I felt like I could breathe properly, not just the usual in and out we do to live but honest, deep full breaths of creativity. Words formed and took shape, characters I have known for 20 plus years finally opened up to me, revealing new facets of themselves I never knew about. The world I had created, but never really understood revealed hidden pathways I had never tread before. I even saw the old me in that which I had written before. I could see the innocence of it, the young girl who was a would be follower of green peace raging against the destruction of man and the naivety of the writing that went along with her.

Yesterday the pen did indeed feel mightier than the sword as I looked at my novel as a writer. What was the secret to my success? Well for me it was reading it out loud. I read it word for word as if I was reading myself a bed time story. I found myself changing things automatically in my head and then writing the alterations down on paper. I think I have finally found myself, Mary J Fletcher the writer. Now it is only a matter of time before I get to show the rest of the world and that my friends is now closer than I ever believed.