The Works…

writing 2

I’ve always liked writing for school and college.

I like to manipulate words and sentences.

I like hunting down the ONE word

that will say exactly what I meant to say.

I even have a hard-copy thesaurus and you better don’t get me started researching something in it, because I might get drawn into it for hours, one idea leading to a choice of words, leading to the next idea, more words, something else, more words, etc.

In short, writing is enjoyable to me and I feel that it can be an artsy expression, even on my modest level.


… now that I’ve decided to actually sit down and write a book….

… writing has become work.

Yep, good old-fashioned work,

like in a job,

like something that can become tedious,

like something that one would love to avoid at times.

In fact, the way I look at it now, writing IS a job to me. Unfortunately, it is also a questionable job where any kind of remuneration is somewhere in the future, without clear substance, appearing at times impossible and at times a thing that I can only hope for without the slightest certainty.


Not an easy lifestyle!

Also, of course, writing is tedious. The words don’t flow easily at all times but I must bridge those gaps in order to continue my story to a point where “I know again what to write.”

Writing a novel is, indeed, “the works,” no less…

And now… I better get back to it.


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