I've just realised that I blogged a whopping three times in 2014. THREE!
You'd think I've spend little to no time writing, and you'd be half right. I spent the last half of last year interning for a website, pumping out around 4-6 articles a day. In total I've done close to 500 now! What about my own personal writing though? Nothing.
Compared to 2013, 2014 was a blast of a year. I got to travel, do what I've always dreamt of doing since I was a kid, and just enjoyed it overall. That's all good and well, but my intern position was temporary, meaning I'm left with nothing on my plate at the moment.
Except, it's nothing like that at all. I have the most awesome and understanding family, and I've basically been given the year to freelance and write my book, with the latter taking priority. It excites me and freaks me out all at the same time! I've wanted to do this for many years now. I studied what I did with this goal in mind; that I would someday sit down to pour my imagination onto paper.
I'm nervous, more than I care to admit. Where does one even begin to write what they hope will be a bestselling novel? I have no clue.
That being said, I've spent most of this month relaxing and brainstorming. The story I've had in mind for years is mostly unchanged, except that I've finally decided how to approach it and where the story should kick off. All I need to do now is sit down and let the words flow.
Wish me luck!