Wednesday, 22 February 2017


I'm late, I'm late for a very important date. How often this comes to pass. No matter how well I seem to organise my time there never seems enough of it. So how do I get everything done that is required of me? In short I don't, not in the time frame allocated anyhow. Mostly this is because I get distracted. This is a curse for anyone who has a deadline. During my University years I not only was interested in the subject being researched but also in everything else that came along with that subject or linked to it in some way, often with no true links at all but it just sounded interesting information to discover. Ah, how this changes the focus as well as broadening the mind. This was all great for the expansion of knowledge but when I went off at each and every tangent it meant losing focus on whatever I was intending to research. This just about sums up my writing life. While it is good for a writer to have knowledge of and an interest in anything and everything it can be both time consuming and too much of a distraction.
Finding that right word or that correct description often means leaving the page and entering another world, one of information rather than creation. This is true whether gleaned from a plain old dictionary or from an extraordinary online conversation. This in turn leads to a myriad of interesting facts and pathways to follow and sometimes it is hours before I actually return to my page with the one exact word or description I required. It also often arouses in me a desire to return to a subject only just touched upon and then this can lead to a whole change of direction of a plot or a character's needs. In fact, a complete change of story can occur. It is unknowable until received by readers whether this turns out to be a good thing or a bad thing.
So, judging how well time is spent and whether that time was a good or a bad influence is something forever debatable. Like time itself, writing is when a thought is translated in a fleeting moment from one mind set to another.  For some lucky writers their words seem to last forever, for others they vanish seemingly into thin air in a matter of moments. The essence of either seems being in the right place at the right time to be noticed and approved of. Such is the stuff dreams are made of.

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