Passion

I think, in the last two days, I’ve had about four hours’ worth of sleep. I went to bed at about the regular time last night, and then woke up suddenly an hour later with an intense desire to start writing. This is what it’s like. Suddenly I have all of these ideas pouring into my head, especially as I start climbing the story arc towards its peak. I have twenty-one chapters to build into a crescendo and then tail off to a suitable ending before the start of the next book. I write without thinking about it, and everything just flows. I was still awake at 3am, either actually writing or working out where everything would go next.

Somebody met me in the office and asked “How d’you write a book?” and at the first asking I really didn’t know how to respond. I’m a bit shy of talking about my techniques because they’re hardly easy to explain. I see this world in front of me and I just write it. The world is insistent about being described too, the characters are very upfront about the need for the story to be told. In the past I’ve stopped writing for periods because it’s a little frightening to be so wrapped up in it, living it and breathing it to that extent. It’s utterly magical. I was having dreams about Amnar long ago, and a lot of the action came from the deepest and clearest dreams I’ve had.  Sometimes I’m a little afraid to admit that that’s how it goes.

I’ve been listening to a lot of the teachers involved in The Secret, reading Robin Sharma’s books and they all say one thing: follow your passion. For years I told myself I shouldn’t, or couldn’t, write because I was being academic. I followed what my parents wanted me to do: be conventional, do something with a guaranteed income. To be honest, I think I’d rather live in dire poverty but be able to write all day and all night in total freedom than to be rich and miserable. Of course, if the writing pays off, then I won’t complain. The key to happiness, or at least my key to happiness, is to follow my “bliss”. And that, for better or worse, is Amnar.