I first had it in primary school, I had advanced beyond the realms of Ginn Level proscribed reading, I had discovered Robert Louis Stevenson with Treasure Island, and I was inspired to join the ranks of spellbinding writers. I lost it for a while when I was plunged once again into the mundaneness of compulsory reading.
I lost and regained the ambition several times between then and now, but it seems to be rather strong right now. I’ve continued to write, but few have seen any of it, some has been binned, some hidden in notebooks and some languishing on flash drives. The entire point of this blog is to make me let go of what I’ve done, allow it to be criticised, ridiculed and corrected. No matter how critical I am of my own work, it will never get any better if there is no outside influence. Evolution cannot happen without a change in environment.
I am just starting out with the blog, it is so hard to let the words go, but it’s just one more step along the path. I like this analogy; the aim is the starting point and ambition, the wind that blows you along. The path is straight and narrow but it has many junctions and quite often, the breeze blows off course or the wind dies, but there is always a way back to the path and the breeze will always pick up again. Alternatively, the detour turns into another path. At least, that’s the theory I’m working with and sticking to.