In between listening to podcasts, laughing and reviewing information I got thinking about my book.
The book I believed I’d write when I was 9, the book I wanted to write at 15, the book I thought about starting last summer.
I really do think I could write a book even though I’m often daunted by the thought of it. It’ll be somewhere between self-help, social science and mystery.
Sometimes I think I haven’t lived enough to start writing a book but then again is there ever really a right time to start anything.
I know the answer.
The last thing I want to do is be that person wanting the same things I want now in 20 years time because I was too scared or lazy to pursue them.
I think I might start my book this summer.