It was dull and misty and I ran out of gas. Found it hard to concentrate. Have to be careful up there in case I slip back into psychosis.
One of the problems I have at the moment is translating life into fiction. I can write about people I know – or have known – with no problem, but I can’t make them into fictional characters. There’;s a block there.
Terrible headache this morning at around 3 am. I think it was the creative juices threatening to take me over and me trying to stop them. I want it to happen but it’s very scary.
Got some coal today so we can have a real fire!
Published by Sarada Gray
I started my first novel, aged 8, in a draughty vicarage, finishing it 14 years later. My first poem emerged on a Sussex beach in 1965, but I didn’t return to poetry until 2007: I’m still trying to find out why.
I have published short stories, poems and reviews and am a recognised performance poet. I’ve been married 21 years and have two children, Holly, 20 and Daniel, 17; but my husband now wants to be known as female. My struggles with this and its effects on my writing, are the springboard for short stories and a radio play.
View all posts by Sarada Gray