Day 9

So today's exercise is this: set your timer for 15 minutes and make writing your BFF.

Write down what made you start writing in the first place.

Write down the way you felt the first time you truly got into the flow.

Write down all the magic you hope to create with your words.

And then keep on going. Write that scene or vignette or conversation that's been playing over and over in your mind, the one that keeps you coming back to the idea of writing over and over again.

I don’t remember starting to write. It’s just something I’ve always done. After my parents died (separately; I’m not a child in a Roald Dahl story) I found myself rereading some of my old words and they were delightful. Reading the stories written by 8 year old me was simply lovely - I recast my dad as a hard bitten detective working the “Highway of Murder” - a job at which, considering the body count, he was clearly unsuited though to my eight year old eyes he could do no wrong. It was lovely to see the high regard in which I held him though. I also rediscovered phrases that were clearly my mum’s voice that I had faithfully transcribed and then forgotten. Even now my past writing is a gift to myself - I reread the blog I have written to help me get through the stormy toddler years and the memories come whooshing back. Writing now is a present for future me.

I am glad I have a husband who has always been keen to support me in this, often far more than I have driven myself. The thing that comes with age is kindness - I have always berated myself that my writing hasn’t gone anywhere, that I haven’t managed to monetise it, whilst being equally high minded that art should never be in the service of finance. I have finally accepted that this kind of thinking is a huge barrier to writing at all. All of that stuff can come later. For the first part it is a priority to get the writing done - I can worry about what comes next once the writing is worthy of being looked at and I think that’s probably quite a way away at the moment. Just write. That’s all. 

I do totally get the flow thing happening some of the time. I tend to edit and revise as I go though, so there is always a part of my brain critiquing what I am doing, which can be a little exhausting. To be honest it has been quite a while since I have had flow. I used to get it when I was writing sets for stand up - I think it’s an important part of comedy writing - any inner critic needs to be silenced so the jokes will come. 

I often find it easier to find the flow when i am huddled in the corner of a busy coffee shop rather than in my quiet calm home - something about the need to block out the bustle helps me to really focus on the words, whereas the quiet around me means I am very easily distracted by any noise and I will quite often trip down a long distracting meander through the internet as I try to track down whatever kind of bird is singing in the garden right now. One of the key things I have discovered though, which is quite important financially, is that it doesn’t have to be a nice cafe. As long as the drinks are highly caffeinated that is more than good enough for me. In fact a grotty cafe gives me far more incentive to distract myself from my surrounds and fully immerse myself in my writing. 

[I didn’t get as far a writing a scene - I enjoyed writing about myself far too much.)