The last week I have attended several writing workshops by author Jill Marshall. After the first one I felt bewildered, after the second I felt…sober and kind of like becoming a nurse or a tradesmen and after the third one I felt hope.
While the workshops were highly informative (really, really insightful) I did feel like they had a slightly negative slant, an unspoken message that traditional publishing was like, what’s his name, Voldemort (Oh, I’m not supposed to say that). But despite that, I did get new found passion in my book (the best thing about workshops) and I have really been getting stuck in and also have gained some objective insight. I can see the weak parts of my book but also I can see that it has strong parts. This has been very helpful. But there is more work to be done. Lots more. And no-where-near enough time.
It is now full-blown winter and its cold and wet. I don’t like either of these things much. I do like my sleeping bag (that isn’t technically mine, so I have been informed on multiple occasions), and my hotties, and my socks and my hot drinks and my evening naps and I think with my new job and many different things planned that this winter really isn’t going to be too wintery – grey, depressing, slow – it is in fact turning out to be quite cheery.
And now two pairs of shoes, that should be mine, but aren’t…yet. The first pair I plan to buy and the second I shall pour over and dream about until I can justify the cost (somehow).
They are both from Overland.
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