Leap Year Day feels special. Obviously, because it comes around once every four years. But less obviously, because I’ve decided to make THAT leap with my writing and do something brave.
I guess what’s brave for one could be rather safe and ordinary for another. But I was inspired and encouraged by the comments my post ‘why can’t I come out of my writing shell?‘ prompted – especially from the wonderful Fiercely Yours – that I am going to take the plunge and leave my nagging inner critic trailing in the wake of my new-found, authentically driven creativity.
Instead of strangling every thought, every sentence and every plot idea at birth, I’m going to let it live and breathe in its own right. I don’t want to second guess what readers may want, ready to defend or cajole or explain what I meant, or anticipate what their criticisms will be.
Surely, if I’m happy with the tone of voice, direction and characterisation of my novel – and can feel it in the very essence of my being – then I may stop the feeling that I’m rowing between two islands, adrift and buffeted by the wind and ocean. I may just feel that I’m leaping to a fertile land with a plot, a mission and a plan.