Not blown it slid

Sun dog at Bradwell, 2007. If you look closely at things which seem, on first glance, to be too expansive - such as this sky - you can be surprised by the most beautiful details. All you have to do is look for them, then stay focussed.

At times it can be difficult to visualise. Stacks of books which have slid into chaos and are peppered with notebooks may not look like they have purpose. Stapled gatherings of academic papers, theories wild and tame, weighed down. Sprigs of plants and pressed flowers. Pencils marking pages and more post-it notes than it takes to feather a notice board. Sometimes I look at it and am overwhelmed. Frustrated. This is my novel.

I imagine it like a small aviator.

You can't see it?

Currently it's over feathered, over fed, and has too much unneccessary weight.

I am going to lift away the extra layers.

When I have finished it will have a strong and powerful core with two beautiful sleek wings to carry it all the way to publication.

I can do this. Sometimes I have to remind myself.