I went for a walk this morning. Both my studies and my writing are frustrating me to no end at present, I haven’t been sleeping well and I’m starved for human contact. Walking rather than working seemed warranted. Usually I walk to the shops when I need to get out of the house, in a straight line with a clear purpose in mind. This time I followed my feet.
My wanderings took me to a second-hand bookshop – the only one in my town (sad thought, isn’t it?) It’s not a very big bookshop. They don’t even arrange their fiction by genre (except for romance which has a whole wall for itself – guess that tells you all you need to know about my town). They do, however, have two sections for English fiction. Continue reading “On loving what you do…” →
The thing is, I have reached a point where I don’t really care whether I sink or not. I’m at a place where even drowning seems better that staying in the boat. I’ve been sitting in the boat for so long, doing the right thing, being careful and responsible, rocking it now and again, but backing off the moment someone starts complaining or it seems like we’re about to capsize. Maybe it’s time to just get out. If I sink, then I sink. If I don’t, well, the possibilities are endless, aren’t they?
Don’t you just sometimes feel like risking it all on an off chance? I think the reason why there are so few truly great people out there is because so few people are willing to risk it on an idea, on a dream. Continue reading “On Taking the Plunge” →