When A Writer Writes

I am going to a cultural event on Friday, where I shall mingle with other creative types. I will be attending in my capacity as a writer. I have even asked to give a reading of a short story which is yet to be completed.

According to somewhat disturbing advice published regularly on the internet, a writer is someone who writes every day. I hope those hosting this event do not require evidence of such dedication to the craft, though I tried it for about three weeks and this is what happened:

I wrote a short story about why cleaning is a waste of time (I think I wrote it on the lap top and now I can’t find it.) When I find it I intend to use it as an experiment on social media (watch this space)

I completed Chapter 9

Chapter nine haunted me for months; I could not move it on in the manner required. Once complete I should have been able to tackle Chapter 10, which is also written, but needs editing, but I had intended to write every day. I assumed that meant writing something new.

I wrote an incomplete story about beings that live in the walls and feed off emotion; they are getting bored because everyone is very much the same.

The idea had been sitting around in my head for some time and was based on the notion that we are all living pretty much the same lives. It was unfinished because the day ran out and I was trying to write every day.

I wrote a story about a 14 year pregnancy

Still only in draft format, the landscape was previously styled for a story about a puppeteer rapist.

In response to a competition brief (now closed) I wrote a story about Spring Suicides

Currently as a third draft this was inspired by a review of The Babadook, it’s really about the relationship between the mother and son, the Spring Suicides were supposed to be about the Mother character coming to terms with her loss, the story was to hold the theme together.

I wrote about the discovery of a fairy in a dystopian future (incomplete)

This was in response to the election results; it’s about when the majority makes a bad decision.

For the cultural event I have a story about a woman who disappears, ceases to exist, and reforms elsewhere, in the steam of a hot coffee, the cheese of lasagna. This came from a concept I tried to weave into a novel five years ago, I got quite a way in and then abandoned it.

The point is that a writer does not have to write every day, a writer has to edit, to think, to read, to re-visit, to let it sit or run on as required and then to propagate. I might be at the propagation stage.  The story of the disappearing woman is taking root; it needs to be ready for planting by Friday.

  

Positive Alignment

Photograph supplied by a student.

Last week I realized that for someone who calls herself a writer, I wasn't producing much in the way of writing. Full of the kind of motivation that occurs as a often as a partial eclipse I drew up a day planner.

For a writer it should be entirely feasible to complete at least one chapter a week, to produced at least one poem and ideally to come up with a short story. I drew a square for every day between Monday 30^th March and August 31^st. I will make a cross each time I write. I will not break the chain.

These first steps inspired me and I found myself nosing around for writing competitions. And then things started to happen. Minuscule things; that a Mexican shaman might notice or perhaps an ancient wise woman who had uncurled the serpent at the base of her spine.

I went to the University to discuss options for studying a masters degree. I would return to the fold that nurtured me through my bachelors. I would work with the people I now correspond with. My chosen subject fits perfectly and there is a potential funding pathway, closing in three days!

The next day the sun and the moon aligned. A sign my heart cried out a sign! Later that day I had a great idea for a short story: another sign, things are coming together they are aligning.

How very New Age of me: I will ask the universe and it will respond accordingly. I will approach the world with optimism and an unshakable certainty in my own success. Why not? Apart from the fact that unending positivity can be slightly irritating to those raised not to blow their own trumpet and are reminded that no one likes a show off. As Morrissey said “Shyness is nice” “Shyness can stop you from doing all things in life you’d like to.” 

Same moon, different colour, different student

How often are we told? We were told? That only one in a million make it in the music, games, fashion, and film industry. Well why can’t I be the one in a million? Yes good luck with that the Pessimist responds. It has nothing to do with luck. My positivity, my enthusiasm is driving me, it’s a creative drive and it’s on a roll. The more that wheel turns the more opportunities arise.

How does my theory stand up then, if (dare I say it?) if I don’t get the funding, or win the story competition ? It doesn't matter, I’m already happy. These are things I should like to do, but my life doesn't depend on these outcomes, my creativity enhances my life and needs no one’s permission but mine.

I have officially granted myself permission to be unbearably positive, to have faith in spiritual alignment and to blow my own trumpet. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m off to light a joss stick and polish my crystals.