NYE,

New Year is not my favourite time of year. This year I had plans, but they got cancelled what felt like pretty last minute, so instead I'll be at home making sure that the fireworks don't drive my dog crazy, but the truth is it's making me feel more than a little bit crappy. 

People like to think of New Year as a new beginning and the chance for a whole new you. For one thing, I hate the pressure of that and for another, tomorrow is just the next consecutive day in my life, where I will be writing the same novel, doing the same job, reading the same book, and, oh, the big difference is I'm diving into Veganuary again, because I am nothing if not a glutton for punishment. I've been going a bit more vegan anyway, but I still don't imagine this will be the moment, or month when it becomes a permanent feature, purely for the fact that I know how difficult I find it. 

Thinking ahead to 2019 though, there is something I'm really excited about and that's my first half marathon. I'm doing it for Macmillan Cancer Support (if you would like to support me in this, thanks, and please head to my Twitter page where there's a link to the Just Giving page) and I'm trying to decide whether to book in a few more runs as well. 

This year has been incredible for several reasons, including finally being trained as a First Aider and Mental Health First Aider, getting to do some amazing things at work that I would have doubted myself for only a few years ago, meeting someone who made me believe in love and romance again (don't judge me because of my age, stuff happened and it broke my spirit) and even though that didn't work out, I have some amazing memories. I went to San Francisco, and I'm not sure that I stopped grinning about it the whole time I was there - except the bit where I stacked it down the Powell BART station stairs; that really hurt. I met some incredible people this year, read some really incredible books and spent some amazing time with my canine counterpart. 

That being said, I also had a really crappy year with my mental health. Some of this year has been really difficult, and there were plenty of times where I wasn't sure it was ever going to get better, but it did and I'm still here. See you all next year. 

C

Time Worth Wasting,

I would love to say that in the time since I last posted a blog, or the time since I wrote about losing the novel even, I have been a perfect version of myself and I have spent the time needed to re-write the novel. I have sat there and stared at the screen and mechanically typed - whilst this is not a verbatim copy of what was previously there, it is enough. It is better. The crap has been sheered away and it is better. I would love to say that, but it's just not true...

This festive season I have spent quite a bit of time knitting. I have been knitting as opposed to typing, which is productive - I have produced quite a lot of blanket patches - but no pieces of a novel. There is a reason, but I'm not sure that I am even being honest with myself about it. 

Part of me wants to tell myself that I needed to give myself some time off and some time to heal. I would love to believe that one, but I also know that it is more likely to be I'm scared to try and write it again. Part of me is scared that I will write it again, not back it up and I will lose all of my words again, but part of me is scared because even though I have plot points, even though I can walk my way through the plot points and I will have a lot of it back, it's always a fear that I will struggle to write it. It's scary to stare at the blank screen and not be sure as to whether or not I can fill it with words again. 

The festive season is over now, so I want to move forward with getting back to writing, though I'm not certain I will start off with that novel. Here we go. 

Bring it on 2018.