“Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand.”
—George Orwell

Weeelll, it’s maybe not as dramatic as George once said but, there is some truth in his words.  Since beginning this writing journey my very own little “demon” has grown in my belly.  He was always there, ever since I was a child, but he was too small to be noticed.  As the years passed he stayed sleeping peacefully in my gut waiting for the day I woke up and realised that I needed him.  Somedays he’s quiet and let’s me off lightly, other days he is in full flight, thrashing around and making himself heard.  But he is my demon and I quite like him….in fact I think I love him (don’t tell the husband!).

That demon in my belly is the love and burning desire to do what I’m doing.  It is what drives me back to the desk everyday.  Even on days like today, when I’m feeling a little tired and not too inspired, the ache inside wouldn’t go unnoticed.  So I scraped out 524 words (and I mean bloody scrapped because the belligerent fecks were not cooperating today).

So all is quiet in my head and my belly for now.  Looking forward to dancing the tango with my demon tomorrow….think I might even wear heels and some make up!

Oíche mhaith amigos!

D x