Just because you can read….

it doesn’t mean you can write, but it doesn’t mean I can’t dream either.

There is a question I am being asked more and more frequently of late, to the point where even my own mother has got in on the act.

“When are you going to write your / Why don’t you write a book”

It stems from my love of books, and all things bookish, my years of attending book festivals, and my friends who either write themselves or are somehow ‘in the industry’. You’ve seen from my posts here I get through an awful lot of books, I’m already up to 64 for the year, and I really enjoy the escapism that comes from losing yourself when reading.

But, am I a writer?

My reviews don’t always suggest so. I know what I like and what I don’t, and if you sit across a table from me I will argue the salient points behind my belief with gusto, but can I get them over to you in a blog post? I’d say not, but If I read the reviews of books I’ve read in broadsheets, or specialist book blogging websites, they often put my offerings to shame, but at the same time, I’m not interested in having the synopsis of a book regurgitated to me, I change my mind, as let’s face it, the review never makes you read a book. Those damn author written taglines on the front cover will though.

When I look at other things I’ve written, on older, now defunct blogs I see something, even if I’m not sure what that something is, that points in another direction.

My desire to write is also hampered by something else. I’m a major league procrastinator, hence this blog. I am always avoiding doing anything that actually needs to be done. Maybe it’s laziness, maybe it’s just being afraid of putting in a lot of hard work for rejection, maybe it’s a fear of failing. I’d say all of the above, but I’ve failed at a lot of things in life and have picked myself up, dusted myself down, and moved forward on a regular basis.

In the time it has taken me to write this post, in my head, I’ve gone from feeling strong for being able to admit a lack of ability to feeling like I”m just making more excuses not to try.

I can read.
I love to read.
I would love to be a writer
but do I lock the ability to write?
Most days I say yes, although in all honesty, I have no idea, but since I can dream, I figure there’s hope for me yet…

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A tiny little glimmer

Of hope, of strength. of something.

Don’t get me wrong, despite all of my outbursts, and the blackest of days I am a strong person.

I know because of where I am now, after everything I’ve gone through over the last few years. I’ve gone from having everything worth having, home, marriage, lifestyle, and a reasonable amount of disposable income. To nothing, no home, no marriage, no money etc. etc. I won’t go on, I’ve been there, done that and bought the t-shirt, towel, and souvenir snow globe, but if you’ve been through divorce then, you know.

However, despite the fact I’m still deeply indebted to the blasted banks due to the ex, I have managed to get myself a brand new home, and get back on the property ladder. I’ve built a new life with a new man, which in itself has been extremely difficult and challenging due to my own selfishness and insecurities that stem from my failed marriage. I’ve also done a lot of growing and changing, and I’ve done it all on my own, because the stubborn part of me that comes from my Grandmother won’t allow me to ask for help, it just expects you to know when I need it, and if you don’t? Well hell, you’re all rubbish, and sod you I’ll do it on my own anyway, I always do.

Yet still I suffer the darkness, there are things I want in life, goals to achieve, that I can’t have or won’t let myself have. I feel I am ‘undeserving’ and that I’m not entitled to be good at what I do, that I am not the sort of person good things happen too, and I never will ‘amount’ to anything.

Then there are moments, like today, when I’m driving home in my car and since I’ve just finished the book I’m listening to I switch to music, and I sing along loudly and badly to something I love and a strange little feeling creeps over me, just for a fleeting moment. I feel positiveness, happiness and hope.

I am just as worthy of success as anyone else.

I am just as capable of achieving my goals as anybody else.

I can do this.

It only ever lasts a minute, but for that minute I am a god. For a tiny glimmer of a moment I can do anything I set my mind too, and no one is going to stand in my way because I deserve this as much as anyone else.

Now, how do I make that moment last a lifetime?