I’ve always loved to write. I was considered quite the Dorothy Parker at university (was not.) So I’m arming myself with the pen once more (artistic licence people – I know what a keyboard is) It’s time to cure what ails me. We all know “the cure for boredom is curiosity” and I don’t need the cure for curiosity. So I’m going to flex my muscles on the page. God knows I’m not flexing them anywhere else.
I won’t be moaning. This isn’t therapy. Although maybe it’ll start out as therapy. But it won’t feel like therapy. I think I’ve written the word therapy too many times and now that’s left me feeling like I’ve protested too much and this actually is therapy. Okay, fine, maybe there’ll be a little bit of therapeutic wordplay. But mainly it’s an exercise in getting my voice back.