Category Archives: Writing

Are You Enjoying The Journey?

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Are you enjoying the journey?

Are you enjoying the journey?

My niece has just got into drama school. After a long spell when she was not acting, she turned up at the audition feeling rusty and nervous. Afterwards she told me that doing the audition reminded her of just how much she enjoys acting.

She always laughs about how she will buy me a car ‘when she is rich and famous’, and its true, she does want to be famous, but only because it will allow her to get better roles. Her heroines are not the Hollywood starlets who are famous for being pretty (not that she isn’t pretty), but actresses who are famous for excellence – Emma Thompson, Harriet Walter, Fiona Shaw.

This made me think about the chapter in Ann Lammott’s seminal book about writing, ‘Bird by Bird’, in which she talks about those students in her writing classes who are only interested in learning how to get published. Getting published is only a minute fraction of a writer’s life. If you are only interested in that, why go through the long, hard slog of writing a novel in the first place?

You have to like writing. You have to like the process.

There is no point in setting out to be a great painter if you hate getting your hands mucky with paint.

There is no point in applying to drama school because you want to get famous, not because you want to act.

If you do either, you are surely going to spend a great deal of time being very miserable indeed.

When you decide to dedicate yourself to an art form, – or any activity, for that matter – be sure why you are doing it. There are a damn site easier and more reliable ways of getting rich and famous than writing a novel. You’d be much better off buying a lottery ticket or robbing a bank (not that I would condone the latter of course!).

Be creative through a medium that you love, because you love doing it.

Fame and riches may or may not follow, but one thing you can be sure of is that you won’t be miserable while you are waiting for it. You’ll be having a nice life. And lots of fun. Which is really the whole point, isn’t it?

Happy Creating,

EF

Friday FanFic: In Praise of Plato

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John and Sherlock - Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch in BBC's 'Sherlock'.

John and Sherlock – Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch in BBC’s ‘Sherlock’.

Olivianoelle14 messaged me on ff.net a little while ago to ask me if I would consider transferring my old fic, ‘In Praise of Plato’, to AO3, on the grounds that the interface there is so much easier to read.

How could I refuse?

When I went back and looked at it, I decided to make a few tiny amendments.  Its two whole years since I wrote it, and it feels like a lifetime.  I can’t believe I wrote 38 fics that year.  Not all of them were publishable, or published, but still, I must have been on a huge roll!  I certainly haven’t matched that output since.

Anyway, here is a much loved old faithful for you to enjoy.

“‘They don’t understand how two men can be so devoted to one another, and be sharing a flat, and not be having sex. It doesn’t fit into their stereotype system. They can’t fathom how it can be possible, and therefore they fear it.’”

Read it here on AO3.

Happy Creating,

EF

Permission

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On Ardnave Beach, Islay, which I am yearning for dreadfully at the moment.

On Ardnave Beach, Islay, which I am yearning for dreadfully at the moment.

You know what they say about what you should do if you fall into quicksand:

Don’t struggle.

I wrote the other day about my fear of writers block, and it definitely struck a chord.  It seems so many of us are struggling to keep going, as if we are still trying to run even though we have one foot nailed to the floor.  Trying, trying, trying.  We give ourselves such a hard time.  We beat ourselves up because we aren’t good enough.

My dear friend Michelle, who can always see what I need better than I can, said to me:  ‘I know you are frustrated because you aren’t getting better as fast as you want to, or expected to.  But maybe you aren’t better because you haven’t waited long enough.‘

In other words, give yourself a break!

The thing that keeps coming up for me when I think about this issue is:

COMPASSION

We need to have compassion for ourselves.  We need to give ourselves time.  One thing I know:  if you stop struggling, you stop sinking.  If you stop trying so hard, things come so much more easily.

Michelle gave me permission to stop trying to be well.  She sent me home to bed.  I slept better that afternoon than I had in months.  Just because I wasn’t trying to feel better.  I was simply letting my body have what it needed. No striving.  No struggling.

I think we get writers block because  we are so busy striving.  We don’t give ourselves compassion.  Or permission.

Permission to write crappy first drafts.

Or crappy sentences.

Or nothing at all.

Everything has to be perfect first time.  And it isn’t.  Because we are human.

Of course, what I said in my last post still stands.  Write anything, if its only a shopping list.  It will help.  But also, give yourself a break.  Be gentle and tender with your inner creative.  Release the stress, let go of the striving.  Remember you are doing this because you enjoy it.  And if you aren’t enjoying it, why are you doing it?

As if by magic, two blog posts I saw this morning chimed with what I have been thinking about this.

Jamie Ridler talks about bringing the tenderness and vulnerability of where you are to your creative work, and also about ways to help yourself fit creative activities in to your busy life.

Jennifer Louden, who is such a wise soul when it comes to compassion for oneself, talks to my soul and yours about letting go of perfection.

I hope that if you are struggling with a creative block of any kind, that you will be able to show yourself compassion.  Be kind.  You are doing the best you can.  And if you stop trying to write the greatest novel of the 21st century, and start writing a paragraph about your dog’s snoring, maybe it will come more easily.

Remember, baby steps.

Happy Creating,

EF

 

I Think I Just Rescued Myself

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Peter Mothersole's House

A Bit of a Wobble.

I had a wobble today.

The ‘Writers Block’ wobble.

You know the one:

I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I cant I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I cant I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I cant I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I cant I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I cant I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I cant I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I cantI can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I cant I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I cantI can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I cant I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I cant I can’t

and so on and so forth.

That moment when you think:

I have nothing to write about, nothing to say, no way of saying  it.  I am empty, dry.  I will never write another word again.

Oh, the horror, the horror…

But that’s not true.

The real truth is that I am avoiding writing what I know I should be writing. (oh yes, oops, prizes for all those who picked out the Bingo! word there – SHOULD.  Because we don’t do SHOULDS here at Evenlode’s Friend, do we?)

I have a great list of ideas of things to tell you about.  But right now, the juice is not flowing.  I don’t want to do them. I feel like the idea of my writing about writing or creativity is preposterous.  I mean, what the hell do I know?

It is a very short step from here to writers block, the neurosis that prevents otherwise creative people from writing for months, years, sometimes forever.  It is a scary thought.  I don’t want to go there.

Maybe I am just not ready yet.  Maybe I am still getting over my family care stint.  It was, after all, pretty emotionally demanding in so many ways.  And physically too.  Frankly, I don’t feel well, either.

So, instead of beating myself up about all the things I SHOULD be writing, I decided to write what I COULD write.  I always have a little story going on my head, something to pass the time, a little tale to entertain me, a bit of dialogue, a few jokes, anything from a silly children’s fable to a torrid love scene.  Something was definitely developing while I was ironing pillowcases after lunch, so I decided I would write it down and see what happened.

Pen to paper.

Two hours later, and here I am with a 2000 word fanfic done and able to write the blog post I never thought I would be able to get to you today.

The Moral of the Story:

Write something.

Write anything.

It doesn’t matter what it is, or if its good, or whether anybody will ever see it.  It doesn’t matter what it is about, whether it is part of your novel, or a section of your non-fiction book, a bit of memoir or just a few lines of description.

Just write something.

And once you get a few words lined up on the page, you will find you can get a few more lined up.  And then a few more.  And then, O Wonder of Wonders!  You will be writing again.

Crisis averted.

Please do not allow yourself to tip over the edge into CAN’T.  Take a deep breath, get out your pen and write a shopping list.  Or a list of the things you can hear right now.  Or what that smell reminds you of.

Because you CAN.

Happy Creating,

EF

 

Back to ‘Normal Life’?

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Andrew Gormley sculpture on top of Blackwells Art shop in Broad Street, Oxford.

Andrew Gormley sculpture on top of Blackwells Art shop in Broad Street, Oxford.

I woke this morning to a blustery wind and the last dregs of ex- Hurricane Bertha outside the window. The sun has begun its long journey down towards the horizon, and the shadows around the hems of the trees are getting darker and longer. There is a dampness in the air that speaks of autumn on its way, that last frantic dash towards the end of summer before the urge to buy pencils and sign up for new courses presses in on us.

I’m back from a week-long trek around the country, visiting parents and doing family duty, and this morning, Jennifer Louden’s blog post about ‘Re-Entry’ popped up on my dash. It could not have been more perfectly timed.

We’ve been away, but it was not what one might call a ‘holiday’. I feel weird and disjointed now we are back, and I’ve realised I need not only to take time to recover from the business of travelling, but also to carefully consider my ‘Re-Entry’ into normal life.

Right now, I’m not even sure what ‘Normal Life’ looks like anymore.

There is a lot of emotional stuff to process from our time away, and plenty of new ideas and inspirations too.

We’ve reached the second half of the year now, and I am feeling the need to reassess my plans and intentions, to consider where I want life to take me in the coming months. Where am I going? What should my priorities be? Can I even remember the working systems I had set up before I left?

The beach where I grew up.

The beach where I grew up.

So I am giving myself time to go through the process of resuming my life, and allowing myself to visualise what this life can be. I’m trying to ignore all the headlong manias for starting new regimes.

You know the thing, the:

‘Now I’m back, I can start that new “diet/exercise regime/ meditation practise/ decluttering/ redecorating/ making my life look like other people’s I see in magazines because I’m not good enough as I am”’

Time to sit down with my journal and write through to what I really want. To decide what the next achievable step is. To remember how my creativity works.

And I am kind of at peace with that. I’m okay with needing time to gently settle back into my world. I know that the words I haven’t had time to write in the last week, the stories that I haven’t been able to visualise while I’ve been away, immersed in caring for others, will return, if I give them the chance. I will settle. I just have to have faith. And I’m happy to wait, and rest, until they condense into a cloud of meaning under my ribs.

If you are just back from your holiday, and struggling to reintegrate into your life, or just about to leave, and concerned about having the Post- Holiday Blues when you get back, grant yourself compassionate ‘Re-Entry’ time. Don’t push yourself too hard to resume. Allow yourself the chance to process the experience you have had, to allow the images and experiences to percolate through your mind. These transitional times are sometimes uncomfortable. Don’t fight it. Give yourself a break.

Happy reintegration,

EF

Friday Quickfic: Locked In

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Kevin Whately as Robbie Lewis and Laurence Fox as James Hathaway in ITV's 'Lewis'.

Kevin Whately as Robbie Lewis and Laurence Fox as James Hathaway in ITV’s ‘Lewis’.

I’m off on the annual summer tour of the family over the next week, and I’m not sure if I’ll be able to post as often as usual – you’ll no doubt still find me on Instagram, though!

In the meantime, here’s a little Lewis schmaltz to make you smile.  Get it here on AO3 or here on FF.net.  Virtual cookies for anyone who can pick out all the movie references.

Here’s a little taster:

‘Right, you two. This-‘ She held up a key. ‘-is the key to my office door. And I am going to walk out and lock it behind me. And you two are going to stay in here until you’ve sorted this out. One way or another. Because I cannot stand another bloody minute of it, do you hear? Oh, and Hathaway?

‘Yes, Ma’am?’ James’s head snapped up.

‘Try not to make too much of a mess of my desk, please?’

Happy Creating everyone,

EF

Inspiration Monday: Friends

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You see familiar things differently with a friend - I'd never noticed how beautiful the light on these arches in Norwich Cathedral before I saw them with my friend Helen.

You see familiar things differently with a friend – I’d never noticed how beautiful the light on these arches in Norwich Cathedral was before I saw them with my friend Helen.

I’ve had such a wonderful few days, full of laughter and fascinating conversation.  I feel so grateful for the people I have in my life, people who stimulate and support me.

On Thursday, old friends arrived on a flying visit from Queensland, Australia.  We hadn’t seen them in several years, as you can imagine, but as soon as they walked through the door, it was like they had never left.  We introduced them to ‘Cards Against Humanity’.  This probably makes us very bad people, but we had a hilarious evening as a result.

On Saturday, I met up with a dear writing friend.  We had a delicious summer lunch on her verandah, overlooking the river, sitting in the sunshine with fresh flowers on a crisp little table cloth, talking about life and writing.

On Sunday, we met up with one of my Sherlock fandom friends and her husband, over from the US for a holiday.  They were kind enough to trek up here to Norfolk to see us, and we had a wonderful day, walking around the sights of Norwich, and talking about whisky, history and writing.  And laughing.  A lot.

Old friends, and new friends.  I feel so lucky to have them, and so inspired by them.  Each one has a fascinating story to tell, life experiences that fill me with awe and admiration.  Each one sparkles with wit and intelligence, and a deep, compassionate love for their fellow beings.

Of course, I am now knackered!  But in a good way.  I have laughed myself hoarse for days running, and thats better therapy than anything the NHS can offer.  I have enjoyed sunshine and fresh air, and my brain has been stimulated so much.

And I am inspired.  Talking with my creative friends has made me feel so excited about my novel.  I’m ready to go.  The world has opened up again. Its full of possibility.

When you are deep in a creative project, or struggling through a creative drought, it is easy to neglect your friends.  You may feel you don’t have time to hang out with them.  In actual fact, the reverse is true.  It is imperative to see your friends, and not just for their cheer-leading capacities.

Conversation spikes your interest in whole new areas.  You learn things from others you never knew existed, and these little morsels dropped into a chat over coffee or supper can take your writing or painting in an entirely new and exciting direction.  Walking about a familiar neighbourhood with a friend, you might see details you never knew were there, just because they see the world in a different way to you.  They might share their struggles in life, and inspire to acts of bravery in your own that you had no idea you were capable of.  And you, in your turn, will ignite new fires in them with your off-the-cuff remarks, and tales of your own life.

People are so exciting.  Connect with them.

I feel so grateful for the friendship of Justin and Val Debuse and their daughter, Sophia;  Nina Robertson; and Helen Todd and Mike Magruder.  Thank all for so generously sharing your time and your laughter with me this week.

Happy Creating,

EF

The Power of Acceptance

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Lilac Phone Box found in the garden of a pub in Dersingham, Norfolk. Doesn't that warm your heart?

Lilac Phone Box found in the garden of a pub in Dersingham, Norfolk. Doesn’t that warm your heart?

Life is, at the moment, a constant exercise in the power of acceptance.

Right now, its hot.

I’m not very good at extremes of weather, and heat just makes me want to sleep continually.  Plus my eyes are bleary and swollen as a result of hayfever, such that my sight is affected.  Frankly, I might as well have a pair of apples glued to the front of my head – I’d probably see better!  Because of the hot nights, I’m nto sleeping either, which makes the eyes and the heat all the more difficult to handle.

So I am not.

(Handling it, I mean.)

I am hiding away from the heat in my cool Victorian brick home, which retains the cold of the night all day, thank goodness, meaning it is miserable to heat in winter, but bliss in summer.

I am accepting that I can’t cope with the heat like I used to.  No more lying on beaches in the Greek Islands, sweltering in 38 degrees for me, thank you very much.

I am accepting that my capacity for doing anything much is greatly reduced.

I am accepting that my body needs to be nurtured through this extreme weather, so I am giving it lots of water, and light but nourishing foods.  A raw vegan diet is easy to eat in this weather because I just don’t want to eat much anyway.

I am sitting in front of my electric fan with my feet up, and honestly, I am loving it.  Its so nice not to have to feel I SHOULD be productive.

And as a result, I have written two stories this week.

Yes, two.

Taking the SHOULDS out of the equation is a recipe for creative freedom.  Moral of the story is:

Stop trying to force it.

Let it flow.

Be who you are.

What can you do to help yourself practise the art of acceptance this week?

Happy creating,

EF

Friday QuickFic: Seeing in the Dark

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Laurence Fox as James Hathaway and Kevin Whately as Robbie Lewis in ITV's 'Lewis'.

Laurence Fox as James Hathaway and Kevin Whately as Robbie Lewis in ITV’s ‘Lewis’.

I’ve been struggling all week to recover from my looking after the wrinklies last weekend, so you can imagine my amazement when this little number boiled out of my head yesterday afternoon!  A little Lewis angst for a Friday afternoon.  I seem to be big on cuddles these days again.  Maybe that augers well for other works.  But don’t quote me on that.

A taster:

“Suddenly its dark. Not the kind of dark you get in his flat at night, that eerie apricot glow from the street lamps filtering through the curtains. Not even the kind of dark you get on dark nights, shadows catching at the edges of your vision. No, this is the utter absence of light. Blackness in all its soul-crushing emptiness.

He hears James cry out.

‘No!’

And then some metallic thumping. Angry fists on a rusty blast door.

‘Bloody hell!’ There is real fury in that shout. And something else Lewis can’t put a name to yet, something hovering in the tone. No, can’t be. He dismisses it.”

You can find it here on A03, and here at FF.net.

Happy reading,

EF

Tales from my Weekend

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Capture the moment.

Capture the moment.

Dear friends,

I’m sorry you didn’t get a post from me yesterday.   I was doing my elder-care weekend.  Once a month, or sometimes twice a month, depending on circumstances, we trek across the country to care for Husband’s mother and aunt (who live together). This time I made a few notes in my writers notebook, thinking they might be useful starters for writing exercises:

  • A weekend of fabulous sunsets and endlessly varied cloudscapes.
  • A red kite swooped down into the garden to scavenge the chicken bones left over from Sunday dinner, as I perched on the back step a few feet away, reading the newspaper.
  • Learning to manoevre a wheelchair –  its a lot more difficult than you think, especially inside supposedly  ‘disabled’ toilets.  And garden centres.  Note to self – the aisles are always narrower than you think.  Especially round the orchids.  Perhaps they just want to capture you there, so you’ll spend more money, I don’t know.
  • I lost my mother-in-law in Sainsburys.  She walked off.  She has dementia.  Now I can imagine  just how terrifying it is to lose a child in a supermarket. (We found her again in the end.)  Note to self: find a way to attach mother-in-law to aunt-in-law’s wheelchair at all times.
  • A wheelchair is a heavy thing:  discuss.
  • A kind lady came up to us and said hello.  Just because.  People can be friendly just for the sake of it.  The world is not such a scary place as we think.
  • Old ladies want to feel pretty too.  Aunt-in-law asked me to spray her with scent from an old bottle of Guy LaRoche that she had tucked away, so she would feel confident when she saw the doctor.
  • A friend’s dog escaped and she snapped her achilles tendon whilst chasing after it.  Just before her impending annual holiday and her daughter’s graduation.
  • My niece’s husband teaches Wittgenstein to his year 12 students.  I think he is brave.
  • Coming home, the sky was full of a just-past-full moon, an orange disc slashed with shards of inky night cloud.
  • Bacon.  No, you don’t need to know anymore.  Bacon is all you need to think about.
  • Hugs.  Hugs make everything better.  Even if you’ve heard the story about the man walking into the plate glass window 18 times in the last ten minutes, hugs always help.

My thanks to Phoebe and Sam Grassby, Mike and Debbie Bracken, Betsy, Maria, Dr Finnegan and the unknown lady who came up to us in Sainsburys, Kidlington, for making the world a better place.

Happy creating,

EF