At the time of my last blog post I was writing fiction in reams, and I was so happy about it. I knew it couldn't last forever, and it didn't. Not because I got fed up of writing though, but because my youngest got the chicken pox, which means that I have spent the majority of two wonderful weeks at home in his company.
I did get a day away, actually - Paul took a day off work so that I could travel up to London to the McPin Foundation. My new place of employment!
Well, hardly - I will be working for McPin on a self-employed, and very part-time, basis. I will only need to go to London a couple of times a year; mostly I will be working from home. But I do feel really pleased to have this job, and especially to be working for such a great organisation. They are at the cutting edge of mental health research, and I hope to continue to be involved with them for as long as possible.
Other opportunities have also arisen in the last couple of weeks. Nothing is finalised yet, but mental health work does seem to be coming to the fore again, which is good. I seem to be drawn back to the subject, I just find it fascinating. And there is so much to be done, as we all know.
Anyway, hopefully I can continue with the fiction, now that my little one is back at school. The trouble is, because I have had a couple of weeks off, I have lost faith in what I was writing. This has happened in the past - frequently - but this time I am determined to push through. In fact, top of my list for tomorrow is to contact the graphic designer who I have lined up to do the cover art for my books. Once the covers are completed and paid for, I will have no choice but to finish the work that goes inside them.
So - tomorrow then, back to the grindstone. In a good way.
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