Occasionally I experience the feeling that I am on the outside of my life looking in. Today was one of those days.
This morning with the baby sleeping upstairs, I spent a couple of hours working on the introduction to the book I have been writing (in conjunction with Sarah Turner of the Harrogate Sanctuary) and allowed myself, for the first time, to acknowledge the fact that we are now on the home stretch and therefore have pretty much written an entire book – a real life, full-length book that is one hundred per cent our creation. I couldn’t and still can’t quite believe it.
I have been banging on to anyone who would listen for years and years that I ‘am writing a book.’ There has always been one simmering on the backburner, a few chapters in the bag before I predictably stalled mid-way, never approaching completion – a multitude of never-ending projects for which I couldn’t quite muster the energy to make my way to THE END.
I have made it this far with the book we have spent the last few months putting together as a result of sobering up; a) There would be no subject matter if I was still boozing, b) I would never have met Sarah, my brilliant writing partner, had I maintained my alcohol dependency, c) my creativity was completely sapped by alcohol back in the drinking days and d) I could never have squeezed a project this big and this important into my life amidst all those alcohol-fuelled nights.
So here we are, the last few weeks of work before the writing is finished, the editing done and the proof-reading complete. It feels like such an achievement, not least because this is something which I have been trying to do for almost twenty years. Finally, one of my all-time goals in life has (very nearly) been accomplished.
It just goes to show what you can do when you put down the bottle.