We’re in the lurgy/infection/fevers season. I’ve been nursing a bout of badness and sharing tips for writing when ill. I am the snotty, fatigued gift that keeps on giving. Note: I’m not a doctor. Don’t sue me.
Writing the second novel in a series is both exciting and scary. You learn a lot about yourself. Mainly what a doubting, weird, procrastinator you are. Brace yourselves for ‘second novel problems’.
When a kitten appears and you were the only cat, apparently you learn to love them, not eat them. Feegle the cat gives advice on solidarity rather than competition. No kittens were harmed in the making of this post. Later is another matter.
I am rubbish sometimes at recognising my progress. I am more likely to list all my failures. Who better to teach you all about how to acknowledge your own progress? Yes, I know. Let’s call it therapy.
Life after and between depression is strange. You want to focus on being well but depression affects your life because it happened to you. This isn’t a sad story but rather one of awareness.
A fresh circle of hell was created for editing. Give yourself a break, fellow writers, and read this post about editing. Yes, there’s no escape.
Preparing to go down a publishing path, whether it’s traditional or self-publishing, is a long and sometimes complicated venture. Let’s support each other in it, not tear each other down.
With age comes wisdom. Believe that and you’ll believe anything. What age has done for me though is shown that striving for perfection is a fruitless and tiring exercise.