This is what they don’t tell you about becoming a writer.

It’s damn hard and scary as hell.


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That brand new, super fast laptop with all the bells and whistles doesn’t a writer make. Although the salesman swore your book would almost write itself. But you do find it easier to waste time as you are sucked into more and more social media websites. Those dancing cats are funny.

 A room to work?

You work like a dog clean out that tiny room the one with the ugly chair and lamp, a years worth of old magazines, tax files and unpacked boxes. Yeah, that room. Now that the old desk shines like new and is free of dust and clutter writing should be a breeze.


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A small printer sits on the edge, filled with paper at the ready. On the right is a mug from your husband. Writer at work.  His idea of being supportive.

A muddled brain…

Late last night your eyes refused to close, your brain refused to quiet and sleep was nowhere to be found. You had enough story ideas for several breakout best-selling novels. Not to mention all the blog posts you could write. Now, as you sit in your new ergonomic chair, your mind goes blank. As blank as the white unlined paper stacked in the printer on your left.

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The only thoughts filling your mind now are nagging doubts.

What works for me?

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