Well… hello! As they say on the Netflix shows I’m fond of bingeing, “It’s been a minute”. I know, I know – it’s been much longer than that. Just over a month, actually. I apologise for my absence. I’ve been here the whole time but was unable to put my mind into blog mode.
I’ve been using every spare moment of my time to write some pieces for consideration of inclusion in a book. During those weeks of intense writing, I learned that I cannot separate my thoughts enough to write in two different styles at once. While blogs are conversational, I’ve been up to my eyebrows in narrative fiction. If you’d asked me a year ago what that even was, I’d probably have shrugged and replied, “Who cares? Isn’t writing just writing?”
I have learned that it absolutely is not! There are very different structures for each genre or style of writing, and I discovered I couldn’t extricate myself enough from the grip of one to dally even for a short while in another. That was a surprise.
I’ve also taken some writing courses and learned things I didn’t want to know. Like, ‘kill your darlings’. It means getting rid of the things you’re holding onto because you like them, even if they no longer work in the story or bog it down. So I let go of the detailed descriptions I enjoy writing, which apparently aren’t necessary for short stories (goodbye, characters with red hair. It’s always red hair because I adore it), the names I spent ages pondering, the clever lines, the hidden jabs at others, the references at obscure things that tickled my fancy – and probably only mine. They can come back when I write longer pieces, but for now, toodle pip, darlings.
And now that I’ve come up for air, I have to deal with the mess of the last few weeks. The packages I haven’t opened because I chose to delay my gratification. The requests for outings with friends that I had to decline. The papers I bundled together but haven’t filed. The husband who sat watching TV alone evening after evening. The car that needs vacuuming and repairing after a poorly judged reversal angle over a kerb higher than it should have been. And the bathrooms. Let’s not talk about those.
There is a rather curious release of finishing something and having my time back. I feel slightly unanchored, as if I’m meant to be doing something but have forgotten what. I was surprised at how much I enjoyed having a reason to ignore the world and indulge in something I love doing. But now that it’s finished, while I’m quite happy to continue ignoring the housework (especially those bathrooms), there are other things I’m also passionate about. Singing. Wandering through nature. My family. It’s possible that engaging in my other interests might create a new rush of inspiration that leads to more writing, but that’s not my aim. I intend to take a deep breath, stretch my shoulders and legs after sitting in front of a computer screen for far too long, and listen to other people’s stories for a while. See you out there!
A Glorious Mess 