Huh boy… today I got The Urge to do The Forbidden Thing: Writing. Must have been that funny-smelling coffee I had this afternoon.
The reason writing is Forbidden, is simply that by next October I have to have completed a PhD thesis, ready to go. And starting another novel would NOT be exactly the way to do that.
But it’s killing me. I have always been writing something since 2000, when I finally took pen and paper and answered my life-long exortation. Even during my Masters in Southampton, I wrote. Even in the Army, I wrote. But having completed my last novel (and still in the process of trying to get it out there) this is now the first period in five years when I’m not seriously writing anything (I occasionally write short stories for fun, but no more than 1000 words…).
Problem is, when The Urge becomes too strong, I have to write something or I start having nightmares about Dan Brown pointing at me and laughing (in real life it’s the other way ’round), or the other one with the Harry Potter-headed monster that I have to kill with Tom Clancy books. Or the worse nightmare of all, where I’m locked in a tiny room that plays nothing but PD James audiobooks on the speakers. All day.
It’s enough to drive you crazy. Or get you writing. You ‘ll be surprised how often the two coincide.
I guess starting this blog was part of the withdrawal syndrome. A substitute, perhaps, but still good fun. And, plus, I get to communicate with all my lovely friends… wait a minute – IS ANYONE READING THIS? HELLO? HELLO?