The world changed yesterday. It changes everyday in ways we don't notice, and sometimes in ways we can't ignore. 9/11 was one of those days we couldn't ignore. But those other days, and the changes they bring, can affect us just as strongly as something so catastrophic as 9/11. 

Yesterday was just another Sunday. A Sunday that brought about the end of the grass court dominance of Roger Federer. His life has changed. So too has Rafael Nadal's, no longer number 2. How did your life change yesterday? I read my partner a draft of the novel I'm writing. Usually I keep these things close to my chest. Writing is a very personal thing, especially in the early drafting stages. Then a writer is at his/her most vulnerable. Half formed ideas, ill-though-through plot lines, too many conflicts, not enough love. Okay, so it was only a page, a couple of hundred words, but it was a mamoth step in our relationship. A recognition that our partnership extends beyond the social and home boundaries, into my fantasy world of fiction. I've been writing for a long time. My work requires lots of writing, management stuff, reports and so on; but I've always written fiction of some sort, although unlike my management writings, my fiction remains unpublished. Not because I couldn't find a publisher - I've never tried- but because this is an intimate part of me. A world I have created and nurtured. This is how I relax.

Yesterday it changed. In taking that one step I brought another into my world, and never again will it be just mine. Nervously I asked for comment. "You write very beautifully, descriptively; you have a romantic edge. I can almost smell the coffee."  It took me 7 months to get to the point where I was prepared to share my writing, 'a romantic edge' was not the observation I expected to hear!  

You see, I know I'm good at dialogue - I could be a screen writer no worries - but I'm not so good at the bits inbetween. Too much dialogue and the reader gets bored or loses the thread of who said what. You can only do 'he said, she said' for so long. Turns out however, that my partner thinks I pretty good at the descriptive stuff as well, though there was the warning that such intensity could blow a reader's mind. So less caffine I guess!

So, I've set my journals and my pencils to one side and from yesterday onwards, I'm drafting my novel on my laptop. Pulling my thoughts together more coherently and more productively. That's the theory anyhow, and that's why I dare to dream.