I often find that my life gets in the way of my writing career.
This isn’t to say I’m not progressing, but in reference to the physical act of pen to paper – I just don’t have the time.
This year has been particularly taxing on my writing, with Her Campus; university; work and several personal issues. As well as looking for a new place to live; attempting to maintain what is left of my social life since I moved to Canterbury; blogging, attempting to date a guy; and all the while fit in some sleep and time to eat at least one meal a day.
I know it’s all part of the course I’m on in life, but sometimes I just want to tell my life to move out of my way, and actually let me write.
I think most writers can sympathise with this notion: the vicious circle – you can’t live without a paid job, but your job gets in the way of your writing. The only reason I do anything is for my writing, but my life is stopping me writing. A tragic trap for any writer.
I can only hope, that once I’ve graduated, my writing will suffer that little bit less, and I can finally dedicate the majority of my time to “killing my darlings”.