I’ve given up trying to figure things out. Take my advice don’t even try! Just when I think I’m close to understanding something – boom there it goes!Like a constantly changing puzzle I’m left holding a weirdly shaped piece with little understanding of how or where it may fit. I am of course talking about my writing.
Today I’ve been busy with my work in progress. I’m about half way through with a reasonable idea of where it may land, although, as you may have gathered I have had a few curve balls to deal with. I do get distracted quite easily and when not ‘day jobbing’ or writing here’s a few of the other things that have been keeping me out of trouble…
Last year my gardening skills were exemplary, we brought a greenhouse, and gave our garden a good once over worthy of Charlie Dimmock. We were rewarded with an abundance of produce. This year my skills can only be described as shoddy, and (rightly so). We’ve had a handful of potatoes and a couple of yellow courgettes to brag about! Even the greenhouse tomatoes have refused to turn red! I’m blaming the wet weather and the army of slugs who have marched across my raised beds! But time has marched on regardless without so much as a backward glance at my decimated broccoli!
Unlike last year we have been lucky enough to celebrate with our son and daughter in law. After a years delay they finally did it and got married. It was the most wonderful of days full of laughter and love. It was so good to be with so many people again – it almost felt ‘normal’ and reminded me how much I’ve missed it. I will never again take such freedom for granted.
So with Summer turning to Autumn and the garden kind of taking care of itself I turn my attention back to my current novel. The odd shaped pieces still haven’t found their home but I’m confident that with a bit more time and attention all will be well.
In November I’ll return to Oxford and spend a few days looking down the backs of sofa’s and underneath tables. There are a few more pieces to find but with a fair wind and time on my side I’m hoping to complete book 4 by Christmas.
UK bookshops have recently reopened (hurrah) and this alone makes me feel a whole lot better. I’ve had my first vaccination, with my second one due in a few weeks time – things are definitely on the up!
Like so many I’ve now had 2 lockdown birthdays (no I’m not the Queen), and this years celebrations were a vast improvement on last years. We managed to sit outside and have brunch at our local vineyard a few weekends ago, last year it was a take away curry and another box set on Netflix!
On the writing front I am still rocking the two book parallel writing theme, and have set down 10,000 historical and 3,000 contemporary new words. Whilst this is good news it could have been a lot more. With no writing retreats to run off to, juggling my day job and everything else has proved a real challenge. I think this is true for a lot of people who’ve been working from home. My day job, or as some like to call it my ‘real job’ (heathens!) has crowded into the spaces where my writing used to be; what was once my sacred writing space is now my day job office. With restrictions easing I’m hoping to claw it back and actually leave the house to work at some point in the future – now wouldn’t that be nice?
On the plus side I have been reading tons in an attempt to decompress from endless Teams meetings. Don’t get me wrong, I think virtual engagement is a wonderful thing but there is just so so much of it. You can still be working without the need to be on screen the whole time.
I recently re visited The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood – this book gets me every time. I find her writing inspiring, and visceral, and scarily real, and absolutely bloody brilliant!
As I stroll around my garden I stare down at the daisies. I recall a line from the above mentioned book which makes me smile.
I love flash fiction although I have never really warmed to the name. In this article Grant Faulkner explores the many names and sub genres of this popular style of writing. From here on in I shall be calling all of my short works ‘palm of my hand fiction’
This week I received an exciting piece of news. A short story I entered into a competition made the Short List. As a writer it is the sort of news that sends tingles down your spine and puts a smile on your face.
Rejection is part and parcel of the everyday when you write, it comes with the territory. So when you get a short list or long list placing you can be assured that your story has had an impact – it is a wonderful feeling. Some days writing is thankless and hard, it can feel as if you are wading through treacle. You try your hardest to make your story sing only to have it land flat. Moments that make you fly are so important. They serve as a reminder that sometimes, just sometimes you can hold a tune!
Thankfully I do not have to wait too long for the results.
With The Brits oh, I mean The Bryts (I’m so old school…) held last night, I got to thinking about how powerful and inspiring music can be.
Music connects with me in a way not much else can… except…books!
Music reaches into my soul and shines a light into places that are often left in shadow. Maybe it evokes a memory or a feeling. It plays around with parts of me that don’t surface as often as they should.
Recently I set myself a challenge to create a soundtrack for each piece of writing I either completed myself or read. It has been an entertaining and enlightening experience! My musical taste is eclectic to say the least, and I have spent hours pondering whether a character in one of my short stories is more into rock than jazz! If truth be told I would probably want all of my characters to like jazz, but that’s a whole other blog post!
So, what pieces of wisdom did I manage to garner from my quasi experiment? Above and beyond the obvious fact that both mediums tell stories and the sheer good fun of it all?
I’ve learnt that in order to be brave you must be vulnerable. It could I suppose apply to any art form, but my drugs of choice are books and music. They are as interconnected in me as blood and DNA. They exist to compliment each other not to compete. Buried within the words of both is a truth, shared just with me. The wordsmiths have been brave. They have laid out their vulnerability for all to see. The least I can do is try to hear and understand.
2018 spat me into 2019 before I felt ready! The good news is now I’m ready! So, belated New Year greetings!
I have a plan for 2019, well sort of. I slumped my way towards the end of last year after an action packed Spring, Summer and Autumn. I don’t have a crystal ball but this year is not about puppies or kittens or any other sort of fluffy fur-balls as far as I’m aware. This year is about my writing. Thanks to my wonderful diary courtesy of Charlie at Urban Writers Retreats I can hold myself to account. I shall be either patting myself on the back, or slapping myself around the face, depending on how things are going! I’m happy to report so far no faces have been slapped! 🤣 Happy New Year!
Sitting on the train back from Manchester I let my mind wander. Is space really the final frontier? Perhaps, but I would argue there is one that lurks a lot closer to home. The confines by which we live, think, engage and converse are all set…by us. We have errected our own barriers, our own limits. Nowhere is this more obvious than in the way we work.
We have conditioned ourselves to be busy bees, always having somewhere to go, something to do. ‘I’m busy people’ we shout to anyone that will listen. But what if we stopped? Someone I admire once said if he saw me staring from the window he knew I was thinking. I may have just been thinking about what I’d like for tea, or when I needed to feed the dog, but the fact I’d given myself the head space meant I was already a step ahead. Giving yourself the freedom to ‘just be’ and let your mind do its thing can sometimes get lost in the drama of life. The ‘I’m too busy’ to think mantra perches on your shoulder and before you know it 💥 – another day gone.
So lovely people my advise for a rainy December day – ditch the ‘busy barrier’ and give yourself the time and space to think – you’ll be amazed at what happens!
No one said this writing lark was easy! Well, if they did they were either lying or delusional.
With lots of ‘life events’ consuming a large portion of 2018, my writing for the most part has taken a backseat. Yes, of course I have dabbled, I have written everyday but not ‘big’ writing. For ‘big’ writing I needed time and headspace, both of which have been in short supply this year.
From birthing puppies (I kid you not), to providing a taxi service for the kids, 2018 has added a few more ‘life lived’ chapters to my story.
With Autumn well and truly ensconced (what a fine word ensconced is), I am getting back into my groove and tap tap tapping away. Dark nights and dark mornings I love them!
Book 3 is back on my desk and I’m editing like crazy. It has been good to step away and come back to it. Amazing what you discover the third and fourth time around!
Now it’s a race to the finish – on your marks, get set… Go!