Sunday, 19 September 2021

Empty pages

I have a new notebook. Actually two. One is a 5-subject one like the kind I used to get when I was little. Blank paper of any description was always a favourite gift. And writers love notebooks. They offer so much potential, so much possibility. All that blank space to fill! We hoard them, cherish them. Every writer you know has a few of them squirreled away, waiting for a story that's worthy enough.

My second new notebook has dinosaurs on it and unruled pages. (Those are bloody hard to find!) It's for world-building.

Yes, I'm inching back towards the page again, to the written word. I have a story that's been swimming around inside me for many moons and I think I'm finally ready to start writing it.

I won't say anything more. I'm not really superstitious (except when I am!) but I'm going to play it safe and not even mention the working title. But I've mentioned the project, and that's a start. A commitment of sorts.

 

 

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