I’ve been telling myself for years that I want to write a book, I want to be an author. But have I done anything about it? Planned some stuff. Thought a lot. Perhaps written a chapter or two before I shelved it, lost it in the murky depths of my laptop’s hard drive. I think it’s time to change (although I assume I say that to myself a lot but I honestly mean it this time. Honest). A (so far) untitled adult crime novel has been completely planned and I’m pretty excited about it. Dribs and drabs of an untitled young adult fantasy novel have also been plotted out here and there in my notebook and I’m pretty excited about that too. But that crime novel, that novel that will be equal parts character study and equal parts homicide investigation, I’m kinda dying to write. And if I’m in a state of ‘I’m really not in the mood to write you’ I’ll do it anyway because how else will I ever get anything finished? My constant inner critic and perfectionist nature are what stop me from ever finishing that book I one day envision to get published and it’s time to switch it off until the last word has been written.

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