Has anyone seen my mojo?

It is a happy wee thing with lots of ideas and a vivid imagination. Most probably a ginger. I have neglected it quite a lot lately as I have been too busy getting myself ‘out there’. (Twitter followers: 30, many of whom are of the questionable variety – but beggars and all that). Note to self – don’t share this blog on Twitter. Next note to self – unfollow the very ‘out there’ man who says he writes sci-fi and messaged me to say Hello! Thanks for the follow! Do you like reading? Erm…yes. I also like MasterChef, fleecy pyjamas, red wine and face to face human contact (not necessarily in that order). And you followed me first so thank you for the follow, I thought very highbrow to myself as I pressed the follow button.

Twitter really is a funny old game. The whole – you follow me, I follow you tig game has me very uneasy. A bit like the time I went to the dentist and as the chair droned me back into that vulnerable position where your feet are higher than your head – I knew, I KNEW, I had stood on dog poo. Fact. Besides, I just spent 17 years warning children of stranger danger. Now I have to embrace it?

But, I transgress. So, I turned my back too long and my mojo got fed up and ran away.

I am about a third of the way through my next book, but the more effort I put into promotion and social media thingies, the harder it is to get back into writing – the actual thing I love doing.

My eldest couldn’t have put it more perfectly the other day even if I had tried. I was showing him what a technical whizz I am in how I have added pages to the website and how people can actually contact me (if they so wish). I showed him how I had also added a Books page with a link to my Amazon page. Total…bloody…genius! He was ever so impressed. “You really are getting a lot closer to authorism,” he gushed. Never have I heard a better example of neologism! (Look it up – I had to). Yes, I am getting closer to authorism…NOT GOOD.

The blog thing…I actually like. I write. People read, or people don’t read if it’s not their thing. Simples. But at least it isn’t a few hours wasted sweating blood to contrive some super slick message to impress the masses…and get a few more follows…and a few more sales. Because I am not a selling myself kind of girl (noun used in the most loose of terms). Probably not the best for a self publishing author. But blogging, it is almost like that wee bit at the end of The Waltons or Highway to Heaven when you get something from it, even if just a bit of perspective. Quite therapeutic, really. God, I loved the Waltons!

On that note, I will keep searching for my mojo by doing what I like best. Writing. In between, I will sit here, in my fleecy pyjamas, watching MasterChef with a glass of red and hopefully, I’ll get back into the swing of it. And if I do, this book will be better than the last. (All said with the fondest tones of sardonism). Night John-Boy. XX

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