I have made peace with the fact that writing a novel will take a lot of this:
(Anyone who knows anything about drinking more than one cup of coffee a day knows that you have coffee black with half a teaspoon of sugar per 200ml of coffee)
And not a lot of this:
(I have absolutely no idea who the people in the picture are - I got the thing off Google. If you're in it and you don't want to be, drop me a comment and I'll find a new one)
Especially if I have to balance a full time job and writing. Up until now my friends have been supportive. Most of them thought it was awesome to have a friend that is writing a book and that will one day be a published author. (They are naively optimistic about a debut Fantasy author's publishing prospects in South Africa, and I keep it that way since they make me feel good about myself)
But I had to be aware that the novelty would wear off, and tonight it did. I was asked by a close friend to join them for movies and takeout, and had to decline since this week has not been a very productive writing week, and I had to catch up. That's when I got the comment: "But no one told you to write a novel."
Yes, I know it was said in jest, and I know that the person did not mean it seriously and I know that they never thought I would take offence, but still, it hurt.
If you've read yesterday's post, you'd know that I currently have this story bashing the inside of my skull to get out and I desperately NEED to write. It's a physical need, like eating and breathing. I'm not doing this for anyone other than myself, because I'm sure that if I do not write this story down, my head will explode and my friends and family will have to pick the pieces of my skull out of the curtains.
And on that happy note I leave you,
Happy writing...