So here I am, some way into my first draft and burning with the desire to shout about it. That urge would normally take me to Facebook, but I have given myself a self imposed social media ban. Originally I gave myself a week, but I have extended it because of how much more productive I have been. 

We are inundated with research telling us too much social media time is bad for us, but it is easy not to see just how much it is affecting us when we surround ourselves with it. Normally, I need to be right up to date with the news, but nearly two weeks in and I realise that if something really genuinely big happens, I will still find out. In the meantime, I am not weighed down with the relentless negativity of our current news narrative.  I don’t feel like I must keep up, that I must just read this article to stay informed, that I must know the ins and outs of eu constitutional law just remain abreast of current affairs. Also, I discovered that not knowing hasn’t actually killed me.

And I have a novel coming together that I want to shout about. My lack of instant gratification in this respect mostly keeps leading me back to my notebook, unless it takes me ferreting around the internet or the non-fiction section at work. It seems to feed back in to itself, and I am starting to remember what it was like writing before I was so easily distracted. It’s also made me want to keep the project pretty close to my chest, which I think will be for the best. I have nothing worth anything until I have a complete draft. 

I still only half hear people though, that doesn’t change. Now, at least, it’s because I am brain deep in a story, not brain off in stream of unrelenting information. 

Advice: uninstall Facebook and Twitter from your devices. Make a banging playlist. Write. 

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