It’s not that there is anything wrong with my life, it’s just boring me shitless. I am in a creative wasteland. I knew I was in trouble when watching a doccie on DC Comics brought tears to my eyes. I was so envious of the comic-book guys. There they are being all creative, making a difference, taking a stand, finding their voice. What about me? Where is my voice? Where is my meaningful creativity?
I am convinced that I have South Africa's answer to Marian Keyes in me.
I want to write about women working it out with humour and dark honesty. Women who love and hate and shag and drink and don't have the answers and can't find their way but then – miraculously – do.
I was thinking of using a kind of 'Jane Austen Book Club' ruse to get the story going but it might be a bit dull for people who haven't read and re-read the books as I have. I may have to find another way.
Its just that sometimes I’m merrily plodding through life and I suddenly realise I’m having a Marian Keyes moment, and then I feel that I am not alone in my lunacy or my fear or my AA meetings.
Maybe that should be the title – ‘A Marian Keyes Moment’.
Okay. Book title. Tick. Now just another 50 000 words and we will have a winner.