It’s hard to be an author… You can spend months, if not years, writing a book. You plough every bit of yourself into it. But that doesn’t mean it will jump off the shelf or find an audience. So you have to market, all the time.
I can do it but I get tired. My dyslexic/aspergic brain doesn’t like to be in the public eye. So I make irregular appearances. The result is that I can disappear. That isn’t good for readers.
Do I stop writing?
I don’t think I can but I have found that I get as much enjoyment from writing non-fiction as writing fiction. So I made a big decision… I’m going to go for the PhD. It has been a soul-searching proposition. I got to go back to uni for 3 years and then I ca continue my research. But with it comes debt and uncertainty. I will be continuing with my fiction, adult and children’s, but I’m going to slow down, maybe only two books a year.
I’m also going to be working on some art. There was a bit of a disaster in the workshop.
I’ve moved in with a lovely man, and I shut up the workshop at the beginning of the winter. There was a damp problem, one that I didn’t anticipate but one I have got to cope with. I got to assess the situation but it looks like I may have lost two-thirds of my work.
I guess I ought to be depressed but all I get is excited. You see the art has started to change and develop. So watch this space because I am going to be producing some new stuff.
Is that about it? We are only 15 days in, but it isn’t.
Around Christmas my fell went down with the flu… Four days later I followed. The result is that I am only just starting to get back to work. I’m late and there are deadlines that need sorting everywhere. I will get there but at the moment I’m playing catchup….