Saturday, 15 January 2011

Tuesday 11th January

Why am I writing? I’ve always written – diaries from nine to eighteen years which I’d planned to publish and lovingly squirreled away in a River Island carrier bag, to short stories, poetry, articles for education mags and a children’s novel and now a new novel, script and blog which I tend to like a new child. New material is everywhere and I’ve taken to carrying colourful notebooks with me at all times, which reside in a very small study groaning under the strain. Some material goes by the wayside as have most of my belongings as we’ve moved from house to house over the last fifteen years. Moving to London, I saved everything I could, but tried to be ruthless, lightening my load of old Christmas cards, books, and faded soft toys I had carted around with me since I’d left home. Even all the face and fabric paints I’d ever owned, tied up in a River Island carrier bag, were left out for the charity van the day we left for London. Many keepsakes too treasured to part with still remain in boxes, gathering dusty layers in the garage as I write. It was only when unpacking my diaries some years later, in a bid to write up my memoirs, that I realised while being a writer requires creativity and good research, discipline and organisation are the bench mark of many successful writers. As I gazed down through my tears at the rusting tubes of fabric paint in the faded carrier bag, I learned a valuable lesson. Although material is important to a writer, good organisation is vital.

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