… I’ve got one.
It’s funny, I haven’t spent much time over the last few weeks thinking about my writing — except briefly to bemoan my lack of it. I’ve been away, this last week, on a yoga teachers’ retreat, which sounds lovely and relaxing, doesn’t it? Well, it was lovely, but not so much relaxing. It was hard work, physically, mentally and emotionally. As is often the case though, with hard work came reward.
When I got back on Friday I felt spaced-out. It was surreal being back in my own life after four intense days of perception-shifting. It’s taken me a couple of days to settle in again. But just at the end of that head-in-the-clouds feeling came something of an epiphany. I’m working on an essay about food at the moment, and have been freaking out about how to narrow down what my research is discovering to a few thousand words. I suddenly realised last night that I didn’t have to. I could still write the essay, but then continue on, and turn this into a bigger project as well.
It probably comes as no surprise to people who’ve spent time with me that I might end up writing extensively about food. I love the stuff. I have a ridiculously fast metabolism, related to my thyroid condition that I’ve mentioned here before, and it means I’m constantly thinking about food and how I might better consume it so that I remain full for longer (and continue to enjoy it!).
Of course, it didn’t take long for the doubt to creep in. Who am I to try to write a book like the one I want to about food (more details as I work them out myself, I promise)? Surely there are already too many books about food on the market?
Valid questions, sure. But I want to write it, so I should just do it, and think about that stuff later.
So. It’s likely that there’ll be more food posts around these parts from here on in. Yum.