Buoy by buoy

Last week I had a writing blip. The first draft is already done and dusted. Now it's all about refining it and making it sound like one of those proper book things. Each morning, I'd read to get inspired, but inadvertently who ever id be reading would accidentally influence my writing style. One chapter had the edge of a former alcoholic who went to a remote island to seen rehab and refuge. Another sounded a little like a 1920s posh, white, privileged gent and then in another I tried to imitate a lady who'd trekked far and wide and wrote beautifully about it. That makes it very inconsistent for the reader and it doesn't really sound like me. So, I sat at my desk, drumming my fingers wondering what the bloody Noras should I do. I've got a water adventure coming up soon and havent done any training for it so signed up to a 10km ocean race in 3 weeks time. It was also a bit of a distraction from the writing too. When I hopped in the water and saw the wall (my target) miles away, I thought 'oh crumbs, how am I ever going to get to 10km when 2km seems so far away.' I swam to the next buoy and was going to get out and have a punch up with my self. But, when I got to the buoy I thought I'd get to the next. And then the next. And after several more buoys I made the wall. Hurrah. and that's it with many things in live. Buoy by buoy. Chapter by chapter. Day by day. And then you'll get yourself a book Linds. Awooooopa πŸ™…πŸΎπŸ’ƒπŸΎ

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