Honestly, sometimes writing is like thrashing in a rip. No idea is a good one. I can’t concentrate. Then I get frustrated with myself, which makes it even harder to write... I have found that if I’m struggling to get anything coherent out, usually one of two things has happened, so therefore one of two things needs to happen.
Pressure can propel us, and other times it can stifles us.
Ugh. A New Year, and I’m late to writing about it. Everything I’ve read by other people has been better than what I’ve got to say. I’m running out of ideas for this stupid blog.
I’m fifty posts in now. I remember distinctly what it felt like to set up this website and start writing. What made me finally do it?
With Hanya Yanagihara’s A Little Life, I needed some space between takes. I picked it up by chance in the library in 2017, and I only read half of the blurb before I knew I wanted to give it a go.
There is a shift that must take place in between when we realise that we’ve got something of value to share with another, and when we have the confidence to act on it.
It was one year ago today that the prompts got released for altMBA23.