I have just signed the contract for my first novel, and to mark this exciting landmark in my life, I have decided to start a blog.
I write love stories that give me opportunities to do interesting research.
What can equal the pure joy of writing? Of immersing oneself in another world. Of putting our words into people, who wouldn’t have life if we didn’t give it to them.
We can be anybody, go anywhere. We can describe a sunset, or the taste of a first kiss. We can explore alien planets, have a sword fight with a French nobleman, or share tea with a chimpanzee in a tiny café in France.
What makes someone a writer? I heard someone say that a person can only call themselves a writer if they have written a million words. It’s true that practice and experience improves a writer, but I think that a writer is someone who writes, no matter what. They may be distracted by the business of life, but they will always find time to write.
A writer is someone who has numerous old till slips in their handbag or cubby hole, crammed ideas that they need to transfer to computer when the time comes. A writer always has a pen, or feels physically ill when they realise that they don’t have one, and will probably forget the brilliant idea they have just had.
A writer needs to write if they are going to carry on functioning as a human being.