Putting pen to paper, or finger to keyboard

I have always wanted to be a writer, for as long as I can remember at least. However, I sometimes seize up with the pressure of it all – when those nasty little voices in my head tell me that I can’t do it.

So I forced myself every day this week to write something; a snippit from my mind, another hundred words on my manuscript, a note to myself.

The result – I finished my first erotic short story. It’s rough and unpolished as a piece of gravel, but it’s finished and the little flutter of joy in my chest was worth the pushing.

The more words I write, the more words come to me.

Lesson for the week – just let it flow


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