It's almost impossible to be really happy with something you've done yourself. But does the script best represent your writing? Has it got passion? Are any boring, overwritten bits definitely gone? Have you had enough feedback and done enough re-writes to be confident that this is your best attempt?
I'm often asked to write, or give talks at conferences or on cider-soaked park benches, about women and work. Women who write, women in business, women going back to work after having a baby, women deciding not to go back to work after having a baby, juggling motherhood and work, the work-life imbalance and so on.
Why did we feel the need to set our words to music? Why not just write poetry? Music has existed for hundreds of years (with and without lyrics!), so it clearly appeals to the human race. Who among us doesn't listen to music in some way every single day? What is it about music that we enjoy so much? And how do I go about trying to explain this?
I first met Richard Beard on a Arvon writing course and shortly afterwards enrolled with NAW. I have written a number of travel books but never my own creative project. As my material is essentially memoir, I was in danger of becoming swamped by the psychology of my own story. I had the building blocks of the idea but the form seemed out of reach.
If I could offer someone on the cusp of their twenties any advice, I would say don't just go with a generic life plan because it 'looks right' or because it's 'what everyone else is doing.' Take time to think about what you want to achieve and how you are going to get there... Sometimes you have to sidestep the safe option and take a risk.
As feverish NaNoWriMo writers across the globe step back from their overheated keyboards - some with 50,000 words in the bag and others with rather less - how do they keep writing come December when there's no deadline to hit?
Blogging is more than words and paragraphs - its a journey, for you and your followers and it one that can lead you down paths that no conventional nine to five job could ever take you. I wrote stories as a little girl but then gave up as being a writer seemed so hard. At the ripe old age of 35 I picked up my blackberry and wrote like mad...
Perhaps it was being put deep under by the anaesthesia, for I am told it really is a little like dying. Well the closest one comes to dying without actually... dying; when you are sedated enough for them to cut into you. Maybe it was that which dropped me deep into myself, enough to touch the stuff that really mattered. The debris hidden behind decades of conditioning shot to the top.