I’m a writer. I write books. I write for newspapers. I write for the web. I’m a writer. I am – honestly.
Just look in my loft. There are boxes packed with all the pages I have written.
Look on Amazon. You can find my books there.
Look at my home. Apart from gifts, everything I own has been paid for through my hours of labour putting one word in front of the other.
I am a writer – it must be true.
So why is it that all these years (decades), there is nothing that is as hard as writing? All the other things – training adults, filing my accounts, managing a team, teaching children, making websites – none of that is as difficult as the blank page,
the empty brain,
the silent room.