Yep, it’s a blog and a boring one at the moment. I feel a little out of my comfort zone right now. I’m used to a different sort of blog surrounded by people that know me and know my writing. This feels like I’ve set myself adrift. This feels like I’m starting again from scratch – which I suppose I am.
I’ve been writing fanfiction for three years, and while I still love it, will still read it and still write a little of it, it’s time to move on. It’s time to rip the plaster off. Except I can’t seem to find the plaster or the wound it was covering. Okay, so forget the plaster. It’s like jumping in at the deep end. Which would be stupid because I hate the water and I can’t swim. I like nice hot baths though, so maybe it’s more like that. Yeah, I’m stepping into a hot bath full of bubbles … But then again, I’ve got sensitive skin so I would have to be careful which bubble bath product I used. Forget that, then.
For nearly three years I wished I had the desire to write original fiction. I finally have it. It’s fun to play with someone else’s toys, but I want my own.
I have a toy ready and waiting: a young man, possibly a teenager. He’s got dark hair, dark eyes, a genuine smile and he’s heading towards something evil, something that will shake him out of the funk he’s in and make him feel alive. That’s all he is at the moment, a cliche, a barely-there image, but that’s more than I had six months ago. Ho boy, this is going to take a while.