I was an interior designer who fell out of love with interpreting other people’s tastes and decided to concentrate on my own. This became a journey from design, to writing about design, to just writing.
But ‘just writing’ made life complicated. Writing turned out to be a secret garden, a magical, entrancing place. It presented a wonderful adventure too intoxicating to resist. And herein lay the complication.
Wonderful, intoxicating adventures take time. Everything seemed less important than writing – eating at the table, wrapping birthday presents, downloading music, wall papering behind the bed, letting the dog out, reading, sleeping…
And then along came along The Australian Literature Review’s Novel Manuscript Development Program.
Belinda Sadek author blog: www.belindasadek.blogspot.com