You know when you get to that stage and you think "right, I've got this idea... it's a really good idea. A really, really good idea. Now I've thought of it... that's one job done. I'll start working on it next week"
That week never comes. It's taken me three months to realise that. So, yesterday. I came in from work. I sat down, didn't even take off my coat, and I wrote. And I wrote. Four hours later I looked outside and it was dark and I realised I was cold. I was so completely immersed in writing that I had given myself a cramp that only caused me pain when I came out of my dream-like bubble. Writing is a sort of meditation.
The endorphins I get from writing are the same as if you've been to the gym and you come out feeling exhausted and exhilarated. This morning my colleague said to be 'writing is exercise', and she was right. I felt exhausted after I'd finished.
I'm not leaving Maddy's Many Mouths by the wayside, I've merely come up with the perfect project for a passionate, persevering playwright, that won't mean I'm going to sleep at past midnight.
And... let's begin.
P.s Summer's just around the corner. I can feel it. Yessss.
Mouth off
xXx
