It is a constant challenge to find time to dedicate to a project that is abstracted from your ‘job’ commitments, relationships and civil responsibilities. A first novel is a scary and illusive thing to pursue. There is nothing to show for it whilst it is being created and no one (including you) really knows whether its total crap or not. Its just a document on my Macbook. A blip on the ether. And yet it represents hours and hours of iteration, reiteration, drafts and redrafts. It represents energy, emotion, tears and sweat.
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The Writing Life
In the past few weeks I have poured my time and energy into launching a new business, YOGICOMM. This is a start-up venture I am funding and running entirely on my own. The business model is simple and limited, as are my technical capabilities, and this allows me to remain highly flexible and responsive whilst I observe and learn with acute interest how the service is used and enjoyed. It is thrilling, but it is also demanding and comes with weighted responsibility; every ounce of work is my own and if I don’t show up, nothing happens.