Four posts and still going . . .

 

A notebook is a writer's friend. (Photo from personal collection.)

Dear writers and procrastinators,

Welcome to this, my fourth posting to this blog detailing my adventures in writing and procrastination – and, now and then, my little successes!

The next couple of months are a little exciting for me: I am celebrating seeing a little of my work and name in print, in two writing magazines published here, in the UK. You can read a piece of poetry I wrote, All Dead Things, in issue #248 of Writers' Forum, and an extract from a story I began writing last year will be analysed and critiqued in Writing Magazine's Under the Microscope segment of their magazine.

The poem is a meditation on the things unsaid between family and how they can damage the bonds between them, almost like rot in the roots. Unfortunately, I didn't win the competition for which I submitted this poem to the magazine, but it was highly commended and shortlisted. 

The extract that will be analysed in Writing Magazine is from a story that has toxic relationships as its central theme . . . a story where none of the characters are very likeable! I am interested in this subject because I have found myself in unhealthy relationships myself, and conversations about unhealthy and toxic relationships have moved closer the fore in recent times. I think how and why people come to be in relationships that are harmful to them, and how and why they stay in those relationships, is a subject worth discussing.

And so, a heartfelt thank you to those who have deemed my efforts worth ink and consideration. And, to you, dear reader, for your time and attention – I know they are valuable. If you can help just a little further, please consider liking, commenting, subscribing, and sharing this posting.

If you can, you can buy me a coffee, to keep me awake as I tap away at this keyboard, here – rather than turning this space into adverts disguised as articles, I throw myself in the kindness of readers. Donations keep my writing alive.

And so, thank you and best wishes.

PS At a time when cost of living and energy crises are taking a big wet bite out of everyone (well, except for those with more than enough already, of course), I know an ask for donations from readers is an ask some cannot answer. Please don't hate me for asking though – getting remuneration for writerly endeavours is just bloomin' hard and, unfortunately, one needs money to keep one's efforts alive.

You can find me on Twitter here.

Successes, Anxieties, and Procrastination

 

Looking skyward for inspiration. Finding sky. (Photo from personal collection.)

After writing a small article on the decline of swifts for a local magazine, I was inundated with emails – okay, well, I got two emails – thanking me for writing said article. The writers of these emails expressed their opinions that I had written a decent article, full of good advice. Of course, I am the writer of that article, so I was able to read it back to myself and find at least eight things I wish I had done differently in the first paragraph.

Out of this exchange of emails, an invitation to a local writing group was proffered. Which is exciting, of course. Oh, and it also fills me with absolute dread! I mean, the very thought of reading aloud my writing to a group of people fills me with terror! Heck, I'm not sure I could read aloud to the flippin' cat without suspecting that I was being judged!

(To be fair, there probably would be judgement – she is a cat. That's what they do.)

If I am not reading, I might be writing; two activities that keep me firmly hidden behind pages and screens. You see, I have been, ever since I was a child, riddled with anxiety. I am not sure where it comes from. When I was a child, I was afraid to leave the house and go to school. The thought of it, and the nerves which made both my head and stomach churn, made me nauseous. 

Me and social interaction have an uneasy thing going on.

So, yeah, this invitation is exciting, and one that I ought to accept gratefully, and I am grateful, but there's that feeling in my stomach again. And that voice in my head, running through all the ways I can plausibly back out and not be thought the oddest of the oddballs. 

At the end of last month, I received an email from Writers' Forum magazine, letting me know that a poem of mine, which I had entered into their monthly competition, would be published in the next issue of the magazine. Whilst it didn't win first prize, it was highly commended.

There is a rush that comes with seeing my name in print. However, this is tempered by the desire to go back in time and tweak and change all the things I've only just noticed now that the thing is in print. This leads to that nagging voice – "Are you sure you deserve this? I mean, this is just a fluke, isn't it? I mean, I won't tell anyone  but you and I both know, you don't really know what you're doing, do you."

Not a question, you understand. An accusation. 

I have a handful of voices kicking around in there, apparently.

Do all writers experience this? The deep unswaying need to write, coupled with a fear that their writing might actually be read? 

Before I give the impression that I am nought but a trembling, dribbling wreck, curled up in a foetal position on the floor, tapping fearfully away at keys, jumping at every click and clack, in a darkened room, with a blanket over my head, I will say that I have enough confidence in my writing to continue flinging it out into the world. The anxieties and uncertainties that follow will have to be navigated as they come, for there is not much I can do about this need to write.

My need and love of writing is an extension of my passion for reading. It comes from my deep respect for the written word. But also, it is an awfully attractive means by which an unsure individual can communicate with the world.

Thank you for reading. Before you go, can I ask you to consider buying a coffee for the author of this blog post. Turns out, making money out of writing can be bloomin' hard! 

You can also share, like, and subscribe to show your support – if we don't support the writing we enjoy, we'll end up with nothing but clickbait and adverts disguised as articles. And what a hellscape the internet then would be.