…i am a writer. Or an author, if you will.
For around twenty years now, i have yearned in an almost perverse fashion to pen stories. I have written a total of three “finished” novels, and numerous short stories, two of which have been published in proper, good old fashioned print, and I have two more novels in progress.
Many of you who already know me know that i do this, but i have always felt reluctant to admit it. I don’t introduce myself as a writer. I don’t earn money from it. It’s not a proper job. In fact it sometimes feels like a filthy secret habit i can’t shake, one that i’m always on the watch for the opportunity to indulge in. I have a family, a wonderful wife and children, a job and all that malarkey, and yet in the back of my mind i skulk in my murky writing-thoughts, like some arse-faced addict on the trawl for an open window or an unlocked bike . I can’t help it. I’m a writer.
Phew. Said it.
Over the course of these blog entries, i will now share this seedy world, the process and pains, the reverie and reflection of my (dare i say it – career – as i rev up (Rrrr!!) for forthcoming publication of The Bastard Wonderland in 2013.
Follow me if you dare.