After being given permission to throw myself into writing, I was faced with a frustrating period of literary paralysis. There I was, with no obstacles apart from the demands of two small children, but less able to put pen to paper than I have been for years.
As I sat staring at the blank pages of my notebook I finally had to admit – I was terrified. Hidden inside those blank sheets of paper I could almost see the characters smirking at me, daring me to let my ink bring them to life. What would I unleash?
A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one.
- George R.R. Martin
I think this also applies to writing. As a child, teenager and adult, I have loved fantasy. I couldn’t wait to join the characters on their adventures, imagining myself discovering a secret which would allow me to cast spells or meet magical creatures of unimaginable beauty. I began to realise the blank page before me could be the door to doing just that. My fear started to transform into butterflies of excitement, but I still didn’t know how to begin. Continue reading