I haven't been doing much bloggy stuff lately, but that's because I've been busily making things up and it's been taking up my computer time. Yay, it's like I had forgotten what fiction could be. It's great fun - I think imaginary things in my head and then write it down and create stories. Woot woot!
I will stop banging on about Ted Hughes eventually but I am still savouring the Collected Letters, and it seems to have been the key to unlocking my words again. He struggled and went months without writing at times, he sweated over stories, he abandoned ideas and ranted and tried to find his mojo again. It's done me such good to read. It's as if someone has said to me "Whatever way you do it is okay."
I have entered a couple of comps, subbed a couple of bits. Health-wise I am feeling improved, not totally ok, and I have good days and bad, but yeah, getting there I think.
Aren't words fabulous. I'm grooving on "palpable" at the moment.
15 hours ago