My first book will be a collection of prose taken from my blog spanning a period of two years from January ’14 to January ’16. I received it back from the proofreaders the other day, and now I’m in the process of making the necessary amendments, writing the blurb, designing the covers, etc. Titled “A Journal for Damned Lovers” (who would have guessed?), it captures a period of my life that saw me transform from a lovesick loser into a lovesick loser who decided to pick up a digital pen and do something about it. Reading back through the entries, I’m proud of my journey and yet sad at what has been lost. At times it makes for bleak reading, especially in the early days, and yet there’s a thread of hope that runs from page to page that makes it all seem worthwhile somehow. Even though it’s not that long ago, there are passages that seem to have been written by someone else. Those fleeting moments when I was in love- was that really me? Did I really come out with such happy and carefree stuff? To think of those I was once in love with, and how my obsessive thirst for creation and solitude drove a wedge between us. To think of the quiet nights where it was just me, WordPress, and a pack of beer. Sometimes the ideas coming thick and fast, others with me staring at a blank screen desperately trying to conjure some magic from out of thin air. As well as love and despair, there’s been anger, defeat, calamity, and believe it or not, even humour. Old words tend to embarrass me, y’know, reading those moments when there’s a flicker of light on the horizon knowing it never went anywhere. Looking back at what was once a revelation but is now merely a discarded thought. Well, it’s all there, soon to become a book. A book born from failed love and years of keeping my emotions under lock and key. And those years… Who was that guy? How did he think he could get away with not feeling anything? Did he really think he could go through life as a machine? Maybe, possibly. I can’t remember now, but I’m not the same as I used to be. I miss the carefree days of being a simple lover, but there’s no going back. I made a decision to become someone else, and better or for worse, that someone is writing these words. There’s no beer tonight, just a little music and a cloud of melancholy that won’t seem to shift. Anyway, I hope that when the book is released it will be something you might like to read. It may have been a lonely journey, and yet I’ve not been alone. To anyone who has ever read my words and taken the time to reach out, I thank you for everything, because without you, this adventure would’ve been meaningless.