My job was a bit of a crapshoot today; there were all sorts of technical problems which gave me far too much time to think (I got to do all the mindless stuff that I normally don’t have a chance, or the desire, to do).
I kept thinking, my novel is such crap, nothing interesting happens for ages, who the hell would want to ever read this drivel?
And then I got to go home early (because there’s only so much mindless stuff I can do before I fall asleep, lol) at which point I was able to take a breather, and remind myself, ‘why do I write?’
The answer, for me, is for my own pleasure. I haven’t much interest in publishing (too much pressure, too many rules, too much anxiety, etc), I never really intended to share any of it*, and all I really want to do is take the story in my head and put it together in print. Because my unwritten stories sit in my head, haunting me, and the only solution is to get them written.
*Friends asked to read my stuff, so I decided to share via Wattpad. I’d say ‘buyer beware’, but it’s a free site, lol.