The Mysterious Traveller

It feels ironic to stare at a digital page and wonder what on earth to write, when the blog post title 'why writers write' may suggest that I know what I am doing.  The truth is, I have no plan. No heroic analogy or intellectual reasoning.  On the rare occasion that I may strike gold due to a misplaced anecdote or whimsical tale, the fact remains that  there was never a structure to this in the first place. This also reflects my life; no plan, no structure.  I write with emotion, not logic or guidelines. I bless my cotton socks that I was relatively auspicious in my English language and literature classes, upon the hundreds of books I must have read growing up. And so, the idea of writing my own book felt as natural as following the page with my finger.  The logic comes from experience. I feel that, although I didn't study a degree in creative writing, my understanding of sentence and paragraph structure is pretty sound. I have almost certainly written some terr...

It's rather challenging to write a book.  It is difficult to keep (and maintain) a rhythm or a consistent flow of writing. The word is that you need to write something everyday, regardless of its merit. I believe this to be true, as you cannot edit an empty page, and yet I have recently gone many weeks without writing a single word. Factors, excuses, delays and other jobs are the usual culprits. Self doubt and imposter syndrome soon follow. So ultimately, it can become yet another shelved project that fades into the ether of once great ideas. I cannot let this happen with my book.  I began officially planning the story in August of 2024, with an outline, character profiles, storyline and general plot and chapter breakdown. The writing came naturally after this, with a real passion and understanding for what I wanted to achieve. But the problem with basing the main protagonist on yourself, alongside an emotional journey that mirrors that of your own, is that it evolves into mor...

The Boy Who Made Lists     The boy who made lists was at his desk, pondering,    Gazing out of the window, where his mind would go wandering.    And wondering of new wonders this next list might bring,   A list full of ponderment , would be a wonderful thing.     The boy he felt eager but with a hint of frustration,     For his mind kept on wandering without thought or formation.   The tasks they kept mounting, amounting to nought ,    The list needed listing, the ponderment be caught!     The boy took his pen, plucked up courage and then started,   Lay ink to the paper and simply could not be parted.   Item one; ah! the groceries. This was always a winner,   To gather some vegetables for a good hearty dinner.     The boy scribbled madly as he continued th e list,    Item two was a haircut that couldn’t be missed.    A bus into town for some lovely new so...