Just received the most tempting offer I cannot possibly ever take up. It was from The Sydney Writers' Centre and it was called "Writing in Paris with Patti Miller". This would be like living my ultimate fantasy. Living in Paris (though be it only for a couple of weeks), taking part in a daily workshop learning how to write your memoir and having my own apartment and the freedom to wander the streets, sit at cafes and listen to people speak French all around me. Bliss.
I've taken a few writing courses over the years but mostly for a couple of hours a week in a cold Tafe classroom after a day at work and domestic reorganising. The 'great novel' did not come out of any of these courses and it wasn't because the teachers weren't wonderful or inspiring, it was because I have a very laid back attitude to inspiration backed up with no follow through.
I was talking to my son about what people said they wanted to do with their life when they were at school and I told him I had always wanted to be a writer but haven't ever made a serious commitment to it. He replied "Mum, you won't ever write a book".
This threw me a bit. Besides the fact that this revelation is coming from a nine year old boy, he is probably right. Depressing thought. Even a child has come to the conclusion that I may never realise my dream. This just makes my post inspired by George Clooney just another whinge.
For a moment I reacted with defeatism and agreed. But then my always present rebel sat up and said "Hang on, I know I'm virtually middle aged (if I live to be 92 that is) but I could still do it! I do write in my blog, not often, but that's writing!".
And it is. Not great writing, but as they say, if you want to be a writer ... just write! Doesn't have to be in Paris (though that would be more than nice), I just have to keep writing on my couch.
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Some of you might have noticed I don't post as much as I used to. That would be because of the painfully difficult online course I've been attempting, "Creating Mobile Apps with HTML5".
I wasn't going too badly on it until they started talking in Javascript and I realised why I didn't go on with being a computer programmer when I was 18. It is boring, frustrating and mind bending. Every time I've sat down to do another lesson, I've almost fallen asleep in the middle of reading the code. Even though I've missed the deadline to complete the course, I've printed out all the lessons to learn in my own time. I want to know how to read the language but I don't think I will necessarily be able to create mobile apps from scratch. My brain is not in that place anymore.
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But I'm back now. With a bit of encouragement from my sister (she actually said she misses my posts!) and the memory of my son not having any faith in me, I will scribble on. I may even put one of my old short stories up here one day!
I'm joining Jess from Diary of SAHM for IBOT - late as usual!
