A year or two ago I could write quite happily. I don’t mean blog type things, I mean short stories with twists at the ends, poetry with subtle imagery and chock full of meaning. I even won a prize (see here), and like to think that I could have written more stuff to the same standard, and might even achieved my dream of writing a book. I have two dreams - I want to publish a book (I have some ideas…), and I want to work in advertising, one day in the future. But then for, no reason at all, I seemed to get a form of writers block. Whilst I have been told by some that I’m (and quote) “Simply not trying hard enough”, it seems to me that forcing words that don’t really work is as bad as writing nothing at all. I would think about words and dictionary’s would come to mind - no flash of colour of moment of “wow”. I never seemed to have ideas any more, and for a while I even stopped dreaming, which terrified me. My dreams are the weirdest I have EVER come across, and I didn’t know what to do without them. Luckily they returned, but for the writing I knew that I simply had to sit back and wait for inspiration to dawn once again.

And now guess what? I think it’s starting to happen. I haven’t had any flashes of emotion, but I’m starting to feel more part of the words again. Like they understand me as they once did, and I understand them. Hopefully one day words will once again stream forth.

I’ve put some of my poems on the new “Poetry” page - keep checking it for updates.

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