I was never very good at keeping a journal. As a child I would often ask for a shiny new diary for Christmas and at New Year I would resolve to write in it every day. I thought that, when I was an old lady, I’d be able to look back and marvel at all the wonderful things that happened to me. My resolutions seldom survived into February. Now, as a middle-aged lady, I have a stack of diaries with dates and appointments and few weeks with comments and observations. Take my word for it, there is little of wonder or marvel to be found in those pages.
So, given my history, why am I writing a blog? Believe me – I’m asking the same question. It’s partly because the tutors on our course said it was good to have an on-line presence, but it is more to use as a training tool. I’m a bit of a butterfly brain – I struggle to focus on one thing at a time – so I thought this would give me some discipline. If I can flex my writing muscles on a blog and write something for publication every few days, maybe it will be easier to focus on my work(s) in progress. That’s the plan, but something tells me it may end up as yet another means of procrastination.
Now – what on earth am I meant to write about. Suggestions on a postcard, please. I’m off to check out my Twitter feed!