I’m writing about my journey to become a proper writer who also happens to be doing kendo. The two it turns out, are not mutually exclusive (also, don’t ask me what I mean by “a proper writer” – I only know for sure the italics is supposed to be there).
There will be run-on sentences. There will be cursing. There will be a swear jar for the times I curse. There will likely be cheerfully gory pictures of the ragbag of injuries I collect via kendo. There will likely be lovesick notes about my partner, Mr. K.
It’s all related, trust me.
But mainly, it’s my journey to be disciplined enough that writing is in the very memories of my muscles, permeating every follicle and cellulite. And there’ll be “oh!” moments when I realise (again) that to be a better kenshi, is to be a better writer, is to be a better kenshi (that was deliberate). (There will likely be snobbishly self-awareness type of posts then, I do apologise)
As we go along, bear with me. Or better yet, enjoy my shenanigans.