Moving On

It is easy to fall out of love with the things we love the most when faced with a series of closed doors. Sometimes we need to walk away and admit defeat; sometimes we just need to re-evaluate. I have started caring for my mum who has only a few months to live and I am finishing my degree with a Creative Writing course. Both have led me to re-evaluate with surprising results. I thought the Creative Writing course would reinvigorate me and fuel my desire to succeed in my writing. Instead it has left me a bit cold and depressed by its strangely formulaic writing styles that can only surely produce copycat writers all desperately trying to avoid the same adjectives and adverbs, showing rather than telling their stories. No wonder it is impossible to find an agent when so many of them have learnt their skills through similar courses. In dealing with a dying woman, who I admit I have never been particularly close to, I have been filled with a new desire to live my life, to take chances and to write the way I want to write; publishers and agents be damned. So to new beginnings. To Kindle Scout and taking chances. To still pursuing the dream.