I'm writing a book. It is all I do right now, and it'll stay that way as long as I can keep it going. The aim is to publish but I have no delusions. It's tough to get publishers to read you, let alone people. If I write and finish a draft and the critic in me says it's crap it'll never see the light of day but I don't care. I'll start another one. Since beginning (and really where was the beginning of this thing because in all seriousness it started just after Christmas but it feels like it has been chipping away at me forever?) more writing ideas have flourished than ever before, and I almost can't wait to start now,  but seeing this particular tome through is the most important thing. I will not be deterred, even though I'm broke and alone and don't know what the outcome will be. I've been spending less and less time on all my social media outlets, and the blog isn't my writing priority. That said, I'm a natural liar, and I poke around to distract myself, and employ all manner of breaks to clog the mental engine. As long as you are willing to come to my house I'll be here- drinking coffee, stretching my dollars, watching library movies, dieting, running, boiling eggs, hand washing, sipping the cheapest boxed plonk and typing away -all in effort to keep writing.