Reading Ray Bradbury

Its suddenly occurred to me that in my want to become a writer…… well even that statement seems odd now I have typed it out. Do i want to be a writer or do I want to write? It’s occurred to me, suddenly, whilst reading up on writing and writers, that I am so busy wanting to be a writer because something inside me has a yearning for it, that I’ve suddenly realised that I don’t actually want to write a novel. I’ve not got a good story in me, no big idea, no character I want to develop, nothing. So where does that leave me? I still want to write so i guess I must just follow the advice in the books I’m reading and just keep on writing. Get my blogs down, get my ideas down, develop a daily writing practice, read and read some more, all the things that as time goes on I’m enjoying more and more.

The joy I’ve just got from having discovered Ray Bradbury and reading the Magic he creates with his words, his ability to form a sentence like I would never dream of doing, has cemented my appreciation of writing and story telling that I never got when i was growing up. Reading was always such a chore and it never appealed to me which is why this is all a bit of a surprise to me now. I’ll not rule out never writing that elusive novel, as life is full of surprises, but perhaps I should look into the journalist route and write articles or investigate something and write this up, or write about my life in previous jobs….. I’m not sure, but its clear, I’ve not really thought this through for a long while. Is that a problem? No I don’t think so. Reading as I am now, about lots of successful writers it’s apparent to me that none of them really had a plan, they just wrote because thats what they wanted to do and i should just stop making excuses and get on with writing what comes into my head. More importantly, as many writers say, just write and write for yourself, doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks. I may have started this blog a long time ago under the pretense that I didn’t care if anyone read it, it would remain for my eyes only if necessary, but deep down, I suppose it does bother me slightly, what people might be thinking. When you have spent your life not being very creative in the arts world, to suddenly be creating a peice of work that will be judged and have opinion cast upon it, it’s a big learning curve for me. I’m over that now though. I’m just going to put some work out there and see where it takes me. You never know, I’m always surprised by the many twists and turns life has had in store for me, and I desperately need a hobby outside of work and family and kids, something i can dive into and take myself out of reality for a while. Pre my back injury, that was training, and martial arts of all sorts, but over the past few years and all my health problems this is becoming a more and more distant memory, of another almost forgotten past.

So in tribute to my new found love of Ray Bradbury (he’s the first person to ever get me to read and love poetry by the way ) I have just poured my unconscious out here without really checking, and now without proof reading with my limited knowledge of grammar, I’m just going to publish this, and to hell with it.

Publish…… go on…. stop pretending you’re just going to do it, and do it. Press publish


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