When I’m writing, I sometimes feel like a supernatural creature that lurks in bogweed and feeds off moonlight. Sometimes, I feel like Jack Nicholson in The Shining. Both are empowering in their own way.
What I don’t enjoy is feeling futile. It’s like turning up for a job you were hired to do and on the first day, within the first hour, realising you’re going to be completely ineffectual. Worst of all is that your boss and co-workers see it, too. But it’s too late. You’re here now. And despite fervently wanting to do the job you just…can’t.
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