Look, it’s been a while since I posted here regularly, mostly for pretty obvious reasons.
Life, as they call it, got in the way, particularly cancer, which is a bit of a shitshow that takes a lot out of your daily schedule – among other things. That’s as good an excuse as any, but probably more relevant is that I lost some motivation to update this regularly. I was busy with things, true enough, and nothing happened that was worth recording.
I’d written a book but couldn’t resolve to publish it. In the meantime, I did fuck all writing when I had cancer full-on. I didn’t have the energy for it; without it, it’s hard to be creative. Then, that passed, and I began writing again, but it felt very personal. I had no notion of putting myself out there. I didn’t think much beyond the page.
What’s changed is that I thought fuck it, and went out and published my novel, almost on the spur of the moment. What’s the point of it gathering dust in my bottom drawer? I’d always figured I wanted to do more with it, improve it here and there, but I realised that becomes a vanishing point you never reach. Just do it, and so I did.
Odd how I feel having done it. There are people out there reading it at this very moment (I hope!) and most likely judging it. It can be a spooky thought, and that’s how I felt initially. But then it fades. I’ve done it; it’s out of my hands. Make of it what you will. It’s almost as if I’ve put it behind me now.
The one abiding sentiment is that I always said I’d publish a novel one day, and now I have. I don’t feel the pride you might expect, but there is a sense of quiet satisfaction.
More importantly, I have another novel to work on and then another after that. I have plenty of ideas. Hopefully, I’ll get the next one – quite different – released next year.