On Writing

I’m trying not to blog at the moment, or at least not so often, so as to leave space for other writing projects.

In the meantime, here are the concluding paragraphs from On Writing by Stephen King, which I’ve been reading recently. 

Writing isn’t about making money, getting famous, getting dates, getting laid, or making friends. In the end, it’s about enriching the lives of those who will read your work, and enriching your own life, as well. It’s about getting up. Getting well, and getting over. Getting happy, okay? Getting happy. Some of this book – perhaps too much – has been about how I learned to do it. Much of it has been about how you can do it better. The rest of it - and perhaps the best of it – is a permission slip: you can, you should, and if you’re brave enough to start, you will. Writing is magic, as much the water of life as any other creative art. The water is free. So drink.
    Drink and be filled up.

Thanks to the delightful Jon from EE for recommending the book.

(We* rang EE to transfer our broadband to them. At the end of a long conversation about houses, dogs, interests, family and occasionally broadband, Jon said that we'd made his day. He certainly made ours.)

*Frog and I make admin phone calls together as I'm the admin person of the family but he hears better than me.