1. The struggle begins

Day one is to tell what I am going to be blogging about.

A while back I made a life choice, I wanted to write fiction and I was going to do it. It was an itch I needed to scratch and crazy me had it in my head to dash out a few short stories and plays and as if by magic I would be a great writer. How dim can one be? Stuff was written, yes, and I marvelled at what a natural I was, born to it in fact. But, all that remains of that work resides on a ridiculously well encrypted memory stick, chucked to the back of a dusty shelf.

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