Rolling the stone up the hill.

So, I’ve started the new book.  A thousand words have hit the page.  An idea is taking shape.  This first word, first paragraph, first page will condition the whole of the next year as the plot develops and redevelops.

Then, a finish line in perhaps a year but that’s the cruel bit because I know that finish line is an illusion.  Re-read, change, review.  Lose sleep, think what a waste of time it’s been. Re-group, start again the re-write won’t take long, will it?  Maybe another year, maybe another month.

Why did I start this?  Was it worth the effort? Will anybody love it like I do?  Maybe a few, maybe many, hey I might get discovered.  Then again I might not.

Shit, who wants to be a writer?  Just got to give that rock another shove up that impossible hill.

About manseljames

75 yrs young happily living in the land of my fathers. Married to the lovely Dawn and father of my lovely Vicky. Poet and writer who scribbles away every day. Write novels, blogs and poetry and don't much mind if the works reach a wide audience or not. Well traveled but now putting down roots at last. Not much of the world left to see! Thankful for a great life so far and revving up for a strong finish!
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