At last I have been persuaded to find my inner voice. I have a website, with a blog attached and from now on you will find me there. www.wendyloujones.weebly.com. Thank you and goodnight!

It is a delight to watch a manuscript grow. I am currently rewriting an earlier tale, which on reflection was poorly written, but the story was good. It has at times felt like pulling teeth, but today I have arrived at the final chapter and feel excitement that it is this time better than it was before. Only a further read through will let me know if this is true, but the words have been flowing freely these past few days and I am hopeful at least that I am getting there.

I hear all the time how virtual reality is taking over people's lives and how the task of creatively writing a distinct piece, is struggling to find a place amongst all the other pulls.
  Blogging seems to be more creative than most, but do people really want to know all that is passing through the minds of writers?  I wonder.
  Sometimes pages-full are written. I think (purely personal preference) that short and sweet is the way to go. Where is it written that we need to know everyone else's opinions on everything these days?
  And sadly, occasionally it should be reiterated, rather loudly - as Thumper's dad once said - 'If you can't say anything nice, don't say nothing at all.'

My world is filling up with virtual life. First Facebook, then Twitter. I have an account on Authonomy, for writing critique and now have been led into Wattpad too. Then there are emails, and promo networking, Goodreads and Blogs. Where is writing itself meant to take its place, let alone reality?

Someone made a good point on social media the other day. We authors should work together. Readers don't JUST read one author's work, they read many. If we can help them find other good books to read, we will not be losing them; they were never OURS to begin with.

My son caught me attempting to twitter when I should have been making lunch and just floored me with the bottom lip. Bad mother! Apparently he gets round the girls at school in the exact same way and he's only 9! Lord help us when he gets older; he's going to have them eating out of the palm of his hand.

So it's Twitter now. I've been bullied into it. Don't know what on Earth I'm doing. What I do know is by the time you've checked your e-mails, done Facebook, read and written Blogs, scanned through Goodreads, looked for any new reviewers to thank and Tweeted, the day is already half over. What ever happened to actual life? I miss it.