Hiatus

It's been awhile since I've posted and that's no coincidence. Years ago I started blogging as a way to keep writing under the illusion that someone, somewhere might read it.* When I started in 2005 (another blog, not  this one), I was newly married, childless, starting a new life in London and recovering from ME. Now in 2019, I'm still married, have one child, consider London home** and recovering every day from the juggling act that is work-family-social-writing.

Unlike 2005 I now have a semi-regular writing practice because I am trying to write a children's book. I got serious about it a few years back when people started dropping dead around me so this children's book is my mid life crisis, only that I have always written in some form or other.  Serious means that any spare time is sucked up by the book and a few other writing projects that I hope will gain traction.

So being serious about writing (oh so serious) means that I don't have time to blog anymore. If I ever finish the bloody thing, I might start again but until that elusive point in time (insert Gatsby's green light here) I will not be blogging.

So until that fine morning, take care and see you on the flip side.

To be a serious writer requires discipline that is iron fisted. It’s sitting down and doing it whether you think you have it in you or not. Every day. Alone. Without interruption. . . . There is no glamour in writing. In fact it’s heartbreak most of the time.” ~Harper Lee

* And because it amuses me
** Until Brexit happened.