I do believe I may be getting my motivation back to the way it used to be many moons ago. I want to write. I cannot remember a time when I didn't. I love playing with words and the power that they have to inform, to inspire, to amuse and to move. At Christmas, I had a lovely conversation with Mum and Dad about my ambitions regarding writing. Mum said, "Well you always said you would. Get on with it, even if you just start keeping a diary". Dad commented that the title for his unwritten book was always "My Father Wears Clogs". Then whilst watching This Morning on the telly, I became aware of the world of Twitter. One of my new followers contacted me saying I had real talent. Now, after bullying in the workplace and post-natal depression and just not being the most natural stay at home mother, this was news to me. Ignore her - she is a mad woman. She would not leave me alone, encouraging me to blog and this blog happened absolutely because of this angel masquerading as a Tweeter.
This blog was not intended to make people cry. I wanted to make readers laugh at my chaos and my musings on the insanity of the world today. Life took over and a phone call from my Mum changed the blog along with many other things.
However, it also acted as a catalyst for my writing. If I don't do it now, when? However long Mum's final journey is, my writing will be my tribute to her. Dad will never write his book but I can.
Yesterday, I received positive comments from the well-known and fabulous novelist Katie Fforde. She is encouraging me to join a writers' association and why not? I think the sensible thing to do is to say I am a writer and let life catch up with that. I look at my bio on Twitter where not knowing what would happen, I call myself a writer. I will see it when I believe it. I am starting to have faith.
So, dear reader, please go for your dreams too. It is a cliche but life really is too short not to go for gold