Thursday, 16 May 2019
Then the most wonderful thing happened.
They taught me to write.
They did! Miss Grey taught me to write and from that day onwards I have written. I remember when I was seven and we were asked to write a story and the teacher, who was instantly forgettable, turned to me and said
'You can't write more than two sides of paper'
Of course I can, I thought, I can easily write two sides, probably four sides.
What she meant was that I was restricted to only writing two sides because she couldn't be arsed to read more than that.
What's this got to do with now?
Well, from my last post you know that I now have breathing issues and the condition is progressive. So I was feeling very sorry for myself and doing the Not-long-for-this-world-thing and decided that we would either have to move or we would eventually have to move our bedroom downstairs. Thank goodness we haven't fallen for this open plan living fad eh?
I went into the study and looked at the shelves full of cr*p and began to empty folders that have stood on the shelves for twenty years untouched and I found the first draft of The Book.
I wrote it during the two weeks I was at my daughter's house in Rochdale, dog sitting back in 199? All I had to do was take the dog for a walk every day and then nothing. So I walked about five miles or more in the morning then went to the market and got food and then came back and sat at the computer and wrote.
So here I am in 2019. I have retyped that first draft and improved it to a second draft. I then started the next book and had written ten chapters and realised that I really needed to write the book that came before all I had written = anyhoooo. That was the end of February and here I am in May and I now have three books written and all into second draft.
Sounds good eh? all formatted ready to submit as soon as the editing is done and last night I had a dream. The upshot of which is that this morning I wrote the first 600 words of book four. I know, I know I should at least try to finish one of the darned things before going onto the next but I have to write it down when I dream it.
So that's how things stand at the moment. Pulmonary rehabilitation means I will be learning exercises to keep me fit (excuse me while I laugh hollowly) and for the rest of the time I can sit with my legs elevated (freaking oedema) and write to my hearts content. If I can find a publisher I'll be laughing into my oxygen won't I?