I just came back from a walk to the beach. I can do that now, living only 500 meters from the water’s edge. It’s certainly not something to be unhappy about 🙂
What IS something to be unhappy about is my own complacency. I am an extremely busy person, especially lately, but I am fully aware that being busy is NOT the reason I have not written this novel. Fear isn’t either. It all comes down to complacency. I am completely complacent about what is most important to me, about what I work so hard for. Having a job is a means to an end for me, an end which is writing for a living. I will NOT get there by focusing only on my back up plan life, waiting for it to be perfect or to slow down before writing these books.
On a walk to the beach today, I picked up a rock which the ocean had smoothed into a shape I was morbidly fascinated by. It has now been brought home, imperfectly graffitied and will sit here haunting me into action.
Complacency, be gone!