After telling myself and the blogging world that I am one helluva badass writer, I sat down for several hours and wrote pages of utter drivel. I did not like one word of it.
I was tempted to run around in a blind panic, declaring that if I am not a badass writer or a badass PR and am nowhere near making £1 million this year, what am I? An utter FAILURE?
No, I did not do that. Instead, I ate some serious carbs and read Bridget’s Jones’ Baby – which actually depressed me even more because it was so good. It did however, remind me that good writing always pushes the plot forwards and my latest chapters don’t do that. They are random and pointless.
It’s back to the drawing board – although not exactly, as they do say that nothing is wasted when you are writing.
I am done with prose today. I need to find some chocolate and veg out to Britain’s Got Talent.
I am a badass writer – most of the time!