What would I do if I wasn’t a writer?

Brampton path and trees.Is this the road least travelled, to paraphrase Robert Frost?

In any event, it reminds me of choices in life. The light and shadow that accompany each one and it made me wonder what I would do if I didn’t spend so much of my time writing.

My list begins with housework. May as well get the boring stuff out of the way. If I didn’t sit at my PC bashing out my 1000 words a day, I could, or is it I would, hoover the carpets, dust the shelves, clean the windows. All those things I don’t do on a daily, or even a weekly basis. My house would be clean and so would my mind. No more dragons, or violent fights, or sex scenes.

After housework would have to come reading. I’d spend far more time sitting and getting through all those books I really, really want to read and currently drop to sleep over last thing at night.

Then I would put walking. I’d go on longer walks, not just the quick dash into town, but long rambling hikes with a group of fellow walkers. I might even take up a friend’s suggestion and get into training for the pilgrimage to Santiago di Compostella.

Next I’d put seeing family and friends, though this not being possible on a daily basis it might be argued that it doesn’t belong in this list. And I make this item a priority anyway. Even over, dare I say it, my writing.

I would also find time to work in a charity shop, or hear school kids read, or some sort of community volunteering that I am ashamed I don’t do.

Finally I would take courses. I’d go to lectures at Keele and do Yoga and Pilates and writing courses….because how could I resist?


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