Never a statement I’d associate with myself – but here we are and there it is.

This isn’t a reference to the tragedy of anorexia – and my sympathy goes out to those that struggle.

No, this missive relates to a relatively new phenomenon (for me) of multiple WIP.

As a rule of thumb, I’ve applied my scatter gun approach to one tale at a time.

I write out of sequence, create random segments that are born orphans but are eventually adopted.

I scribble an ending and work haphazardly towards this point.

But for reasons unknown, and some known, I’ve been spinning multiple plates for a while now.

What was an attempted solution to “writers block” has now become a millstone in its own right. 

And with some begrudged acknowledgement of irony, I’m now ‘stuck’ with the originating problem with all these little WIP.

So, which one is my favourite child, which one to we work on, which ones do we set aside?

In a world of real problems, I can rejoice in the triviality that are mine.

Stay safe, keep the faith, and try to remain sane!

Round and round we go, always and ever round and round, never forward, just round and round and round.

Sometimes you’ve always been this place before, déjà vu, stutters in the timeline, a black cat crosses your path…

If each step taken is progress, then why am I only seeing my own footprints?

Not a religious analogy – but it could be.

Writing tall tales, howsoever, or wherever the writer commits to the craft is a solitary business.

The potential reward for so many hours of labour is fiscally miniscule.

To be read, to be enjoyed – these though are the riches beyond calculation, these are the wishes asked of the genie.

My work is polished, the silk purse near complete.

Fear grips my chest, breath is denied.

Will they hate it, will they be indifferent, or indeed will they like it?

What if it indeed does have worth?

What then all the back clinging monkeys and self-doubt?

The day of judgement is coming.

The imposter is sweating.

Self-publishing is ever closer.

Amy Grace and her tall tale will soon be freed.

Keep the faith.

Stay safe – remain sane!

It’s a solitary indulgence.

You, your writing, your characters.

You’re never alone, but alas you really are.

Imaginary friends are just that.

Shadows that dance on the wall are only characters in your mind.

The rest of the world doesn’t see them, it never sees them.

You may at time wax lyrical to a pinned ear, but never does an enquiring mind freely race to your crafted narrative.

Flouncy shirt in a cold garret; obscure and remote.

Obstinance isn’t a character flaw.

Faith isn’t a delusion.

Our time will come.

Footfall will follow footfall.

The loneliness of a long-distance runner may be ours, but even marathons end.

We plod on.

Ever onwards.

Stay sane – stay safe!