I like to write almost every single day. I strongly believe that to be successful you have to put in the hard work, the slog, the grind. You have to work through the pain of another grey day when you just don’t feel like it, or the words don’t come or the blank page on the computer screen glares at you with its brilliant white intensity. Even if I only write few hundred words it’s enough to keep the ball rolling. However, my writing has had to take a seat on the back burner to make room for the Bunker Diary, a truly disturbing but fascinating read. It is my end of module assignment for my Children’s Literature course and I have to analysis this book and work out how it fits into the history of children’s books. So every waking, and sleeping moment is filled with this intense script. To be honest I would much rather be a writer than a critic as analysis is not my strong point. Writing comes from the soul, it is part of you, a small piece of your heart but to criticise and analyse you have to approach a book with a cold, stark detachment. I’m still not sure that every writer puts in as much subtle thought as analysts give them credit for or maybe it is just that writing comes from our unconscious psyche and digs deep into something primal and soulful. Anyway, a few more weeks of reading other people’s work and then I can get back to my own.
I think the instinct to succeed is implanted at a very early age and there are few children who do not respond to success and praise. My young daughter has finally passed her 10 metres swimming badge after months of trying and her tenacity in not just throwing in the towel and saying she can’t do it made me as proud as finally seeing her eyes light up the whole world when she realised actually she could do it and do it well. Swimming for my children is a luxury that I can’t really afford but like any parent out there you make sacrifices for your children so they can have the best that you can offer them. This doesn’t make me special or unique it just makes me a mother. My children are my inspiration; they are not the reason I write. I write because after all these years I have finally realised that I AM a writer. They are the reason that I want to suceed.