Many apologies for not blogging for such a long time. I had been busy editing my latest rewrite (seven so far plus numerous edits) of Save The Last Dance For Me in preparation for resubmitting to the New Writers' Scheme of the Romantic Novelists' Association. On 18th May, with huge sighs of relief, I sent off the finished manuscript and am now awaiting a reader's critique. I fully intended taking a break of a few days before tackling anything else but a short holiday in the Cotswolds and catching up with garden tasks and, most recently, the Queen's Diamond Jubilee celebrations, means that I have not yet done so. But, back to normal now, and I am resolved to start again tomorrow!
A few weeks ago, in the May issue of Writing Magazine, I read an article by Adrian Magson on what it takes to be a writer. One of the things he said really struck a chord with me and, I guess, with many of my fellow writers. I quote: "A hunger to write. Not to be confused with an obsession for compiling lists, but that innate passion to be a writer, in whatever form. This usually manifests itself early in life, leading to a relentless haunting of bookshops and libraries, or a deep attraction to writing materials. And writing, of course. Goes without saying." Sums me up in a paragraph! I can't resist bookshops (especially second-hand ones), libraries (all those books promising a good read) and stationery shops (to buy notebooks, of course!).
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