I have written a few times here about my writing process, and how destructive it can be. Also about how writing my former favorite subject matter (political satire) was becoming too much of a burden to continue to write. (If you are interested in reading those pieces you can find them here, and here.) But, I have started a new creative venture recently, and now four weeks into it and I feel good enough to finally write here about it.
A lot of people associate recruitment firms with temp agencies, but they aren’t always the same thing. While the company I work for, which shall remain nameless for legal reasons, does have a lot of temp positions, most of them are temp to hire, or permanent placement right from the get go.
I have been writing for as long as I can remember. I have daily journals that I have kept since I was four years old. As long as I was old enough to write anything that even remotely resembled words, I was writing. I was pouring out all the little thoughts that crossed my little mind. I still journal. I write in it daily, everything that matters to me goes in there. No editing, no purpose, other than to process all the things that my brain decides to torture me with at any given minute. But I have written novels and novels and novels. In my twenties I churned out roughly a book a year, and I could have done more.
I will not be ashamed of this,
I will no longer police my feelings
Things are always difficult,