The first thing I can remember wanting to do as a job is write. It was probably on the back of getting a glowing report from my primary school teacher for my poem about a tiger. I did end up writing for a living, but it ended up being of a more prosaic variety. The kind filled with algorithms and closures rather than similies and metaphors; I’m a software engineer.

Dreams of being a real writer floated away, but never fully evaporated. I even applied for (and got) a job as a writer on a computing magazine after my first programming job. I didn’t take it though, due to a combination of the salary offer and my pragmatic / cowardly nature. I would occasionally still try and write things, fragments of short stories litter my google drive, all terrible. I would struggle through a few paragraphs, read them back, wince so hard my hair fell out, then slam my laptop shut and forget about it. I’ve realised though, that if I want to one day be able to write something that doesn’t make me cringe, then I’m going to have to practice.

So here we are then. I could just write in a journal or something, but I figured I would make like it was 2003 and get blogging. I’m going to try and write something at least once a week. There is going to be no theme, it could be a simple diary entry, a book or film review, maybe even some fragments of fiction if I feel brave enough. This is my 2025 goal, along with reading more, cycling more, sleeping more. We’ll see what gives I guess.