I have now written the first chapter of my book. Well, I say chapter, it’s two pages long. Three pages if I cheat and increase the size of the type.

It may never get to be a book; it might only progress as far as a short story. Heck, it might never get beyond one chapter and several awkward follow up pages. But, as of now, IT IS one chapter. And what a chapter! If I say so myself it’s terrific, and let’s be honest, if I don’t say it myself then who will?

The second chapter, what I call my “Second. Difficult Chapter”, is, rather like those follow up albums from rock bands and proving more reluctant to flow from my pen. Alright, my iPad. Who uses a pen these days?

It all begs one important question though; “Is the world ready for the next great writer?”

Okay, two questions; that one and “Will that writer be me?”