So day one of my new career as a novelist was not exactly stellar. In fact, I can't actually call it day one because I didn't write anything. No, that's not accurate, I did write some articles, but I didn't write anything related to the book. And yes, it's only 8 pm here, and I could do some writing yet. But my head is pounding and I am not quite sure I have it in me this evening. I really just want to hit the couch and vegetate. I fear this is a sign of things to come, proof positive that this is a pointless endeavour. When I told Shaun I was thinking of writing a book he said "What, in your spare time?" And he's right, I really don't have a whole lot of it.
So. What to do. Lie on the couch and relax for the first time since I got up at 7:30 this morning, or force myself to at least start this alleged book? I am hoping it's one of those things, like exercise, that gets easier as you go along. That once I form the habit of writing every day, I will not want to beg off. That once the ball is rolling, it will pick up speed. It will, right?
Ok, ok! Here I go. Writing. I will write for a little while, and then I will re-introduce my backside to the couch. Here goes. No, really.