The idea of the winding road in the forest isn’t new. Not knowing where it began or where it will end is part of the joy, what’s in the middle is what counts. It’s often like that with story writing, and writing as a whole. finding the start point can be difficult, and creating a satisfying ending even more so. But just putting one foot in front of the other on the road is how it’s done, and all too soon, the journey has been made, and there’s a tangible something to show for it.
It’s been a minute. In the hazy perm twilight that was Sydney over the summer, it was all too easy to slip into a semi conscious haze of worry over the never-ending fires, the lives of all those affected all around, and the idea that the choking swirls would hang over the city forever. Writing horror took a backseat to watching the horror unfolding all around, and all too soon, the summer days were gone and it’s back to the working life, and wondering why the year is already slipping by.
2020 is not slowing down, in fact it’s gaining momentum, and so, in order to make sure that it isn’t receding into the distance with no tangible writing evidence from me, I’ve signed up to do a monthly challenge. Short and sweet, one short story a month, no exceptions. From this point onwards, even if nothing else happens there will be ten short stories waiting by December 12.
And that’s really what it’s all about. Chipping away little by little, and enjoying the journey along the way.