So it’s the end of another year and I’m absolutely exhausted (though that is due in part to the fact that I’ve been fighting the dreaded lurgy for the entire Christmas. Evil, personified – seriously)

I know it sounds a little conceited but I’m sort of proud of my writing performance this year. Okay, so my novel isn’t finished yet but I know I will get there at some stage. I’ve written loads this year. Not just my blog, but short stories, articles and poems and monologues. You can see most of them on this website, and to be fair, I’m proud of them.

The problem is, there’s also lots of things I’ve written for publication that no-one’s seen because I don’t have the courage to show anyone. Sometimes I don’t show people because I don’t want to cause offence. Other times I don’t want to be told that my work is crap and I’ve no business calling myself a writer.

So this year, instead of making the same usual promises of going on a diet, promising to exercise more and all the other lies we tell ourselves to make ourselves feel better, I am going to endeavour to write more, and actually show people what I write. I’m going to send more proposals, set myself up for the world of rejection. Stop protecting myself. I’m also going to  be more true to how I feel and stop holding back in my writing.

I can’t wait to get started. In 2018, obviously. No point in overdoing it either.

(As an aside I’d like to thank my fellow By Us With Us team for allowing me to be part of such a unique event. It changed my life and gave me new hope for the future)