Hunz.
I am sitting in a three-hour writing sprint, which will take place every two weeks in February, and I am SO glad.
This is where a group of people come together and write whatever they need to for three hours. Accountability and inspo. I'm sitting in a studio at a table with others, looking out at the main sands where I can see Dreamland and the cars making their way while the sea makes its way towards the shore.
Treat.
It's Friday, and normally, I make my way along the road after school drop off at a cafe, buy a pastry and a cup of chai latte while I chat with other mothers until sometimes, like…10:30/11.
This Friday, I decided to pop my name down for the writing Sprint, and I have already written a visualisation, which is coming to you next week. I am about to start my structure for a new book, and paying Substack subscribers will be in for the ride.
This book is not going to be as hefty as my first book or as non-fictiony and I do have a title idea, which apparently, Amazon wouldn't like because it has a swear word in it so I will probs have to re-think that. But it's a book that keeps tapping me on the shoulder.
Hello.
Remember me.
And then someone, ahem, published a book in the EXACT format I imagined mine to be. Fuck. Oh well.
Someone famous has probably had a good enough advance to pay for a Gucci dress … sooo….I will continue because it keeps reminding me of its presence; mine isn't as positive as theirs. I read it and was like- oh, they have a very different perspective, and mine is linked to something she doesn't and wouldn't necessarily write about spiritually.
You'll know exactly what I am talking about WHEN you read it.
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