eating my words?

Reading one of those “ten ways to start your novel” by some “best selling author” that I have never heard of, is my tried and true way to procrastinate about actually writing that novel that I have waiting to write since I was twelve years old. I guess it is the modern equivalent of tidying a desk, choosing the right paper and lining the pencils up, all nicely sharpened. Busy Business that gets me nowhere.


However, at the end of the authors web page was an advertisement for statins. If high cholesterol is a requirement for being a successful author, I am an over achiever in that area.


Which reminds me, this was the delicious salad that Daughter1 created for our ANZAC Day lunch – spinach, roasted beetroot and pumpkin, chickpea and goat’s cheese with olive oil and balsamic vinegar dressing. Superb.

salad ANZAC

8 thoughts on “eating my words?

  1. Last night I was listening to a radio show where two writers were interviewed. The first one had compared writing to moving a pile of rocks from one end of a parking lot to another: it was hard work, but at least one could see a little progress each day. The next one, an actress and comedienne who was working on a memoir, said most writers she knew procrastinated on the internet before getting to work. She thought writing was terribly lonely and grumpy-making, which was why she preferred to be making TV shows. So I guess one can assume writing a book is awful work?

    I’ve been bouncing around ideas for a book for a long time, but I think I may have to start by writing tiny paragraphs each day, much like a child’s storybook. The thought of writing a full-blown Novel makes me want to lie down with a cold compress on my forehead.


      • Or make a scene each day? That might not promote the progress on a novel, but it would make for interesting blogging.

        (I would not actually do that, by the way. I currently work with someone who seems to enjoy making at least one dramatic scene per day. I’ve wondered if her life is so boring, she must fabricate a crisis to reassure herself it’s worth living, or if she’s emotionally locked in kindergarten. She’d make a funny character for a story, but I would have to kill her in the end, or turn her into the victim for a murder mystery.)


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