Denial is not a river in Egypt

I’ve had some interesting comments following the new life of Inspiration Unplugged. Mostly from people who had no idea I was a writer (or blogger, take your pick). I’ve had positive feedback, and that’s kind of nice for someone who never really told anyone about her ‘hobby’. But then I wonder why I’ve never told anybody about something I’ve done all my life? I’ve always been writing, in fact I think I have some sort of obsession with the formation of words. I’m weird, but mind you, so is every other writer out there.


When Im not writing poetry or short stories or sad ramblings or epic twitter & facebook updates (yes, these count!) then Im writing lists, plans, objectives, goals, ideas, introductions, thoughts, quotes and every other little thing that can be on paper or .doc format. I always have done, and notebooks with little ramblings and lists are stacked all over my study, and mostly they don’t make sense. But I need that paper and I need that pen… or my Outlook (in fact Im typing this post into an email as we speak… please tell me somebody else does this!?)

When I was an angst-ridden teen, Id write letters to myself, and to my parents. When I first fell in love I spilled everything onto paper, and when I fell out of love I spilled again. I’ve written hate letters and love letters and poems and short stories and have two of those wonderful little things we called the ‘unfinished novel’. But I’ve never gone, “Hey, I’m a writer”. Ah Kaye but why? I don’t write for a profession, in fact I’m supposed to be a designer, and as a passion I am nowhere near as prolific as some passionate writers. As a rule I generally cant write more than 1000 words… ever, unless its an essay for uni and then well, Im just the Queen of Bullshitting to get to my word count. But I still get really good marks. See? Weird…. And now if I include Inspiration Unplugged, I have a daily planner, three blogs, two twitter accounts, two facebook accounts, a really cute journal, and a university degree to get through. There’s no escaping the truth of the matter – I'm a wr.... wrrrrr... wrrriii

Ive given up trying to pinpoint why I have this word-diarrhoea, my partner thinks its because I have a million cogs turning in my head and the only way to organise them all is to get it out on paper. You’d be surprised how well I sleep after I babbled some useless guff into the notebook on my bedside table. But the more I try to analyse it, the more it doesn’t make any sense, and then I write about my confusion and Im back to square one. Hell, I dont even know if Im any GOOD, maybe you folks are just being nice, but Im pretty sure that Ive worked out that I enjoy doing it. So these days I just go with the flow. Sometimes I won’t write for months, and then write non-stop for a week… it’s just how I do it. In truth, if I was a professional writer, I’d be fired.



So when the crew behind the scenes at Freelancer Unplugged put me forward as a speaker on the panel at the Written Worlds event, I thought I was going to hyperventilate. I truly said to myself, “But Im not a writer!”. But what am I doing now? Writing about it.

Again, Weird.

Im trying not to think about that event too much, yes granted most of the time you cannot get me to shut up, but in front of a room of 50 people?? There’s that voice again, “But Im not a speaker! And what’s worse, I have to speak about writing, and Im not a writer!”. Its enough to give any writer a heart attack.

Written Worlds Event - Melbourne