Month: August 2019

Categories
Non-fiction Observations Writing

The Write Mood

Aspiring to be a writer is a tricky thing. Not only does it take time and effort, but it takes a strong and confident mindset too. This is something that I sometimes forget to have.

I firmly believe (and know from experience) that being in my twenties is tough. I’m not yet settled, I am single, I don’t own a house, I have no responsibilities, no notion of the future and a constant comparison to others. Whether this is going to be the case throughout my life, I am yet to find out, but all I know is this stage of life in contrast to younger years.

My mood towards life and my future goes in a pattern of waves. Sometimes I am full of energy and can’t write fast enough for all the projects that I have on the go. Sometimes I write five blog posts in an hour, a novel in six months and tiredness never comes into it because I’m so passionate. I know I’ll succeed and take every bit of feedback, every rejection, every personal opinion asking me what I’m “actually doing with my life” in a positive light and strive for a bright future ahead of me.

Other times I have no motivation, I feel overwhelmed with my workload, I have a novel on hold for six months and I feel completely tired all of the time. I take every nugget of advice as criticism, I doubt my every move, all rejection is a black hole and I feel skeptical about the whole thing.

Being a creative, I have the tendency to exaggerate. The other day I woke in the stormy weather to realise that my car windows were open and my key was at my friend’s house. Knowing I couldn’t close it without a key, I thought up the most unrealistic and extreme scenario that I could and concluded that my car would be struck by lightning, the water would cause an explosion which would set alight my grass, our house and then the entire neighborhood. Of course, I was wrong. This is the mind of a writer after all.

I have to remember this when I’m thinking about my future too. I will think up the worst case scenarios and fixate on them which is dangerous. I’ll always be single, I’ll never afford to buy a house, I won’t ever get published. What am I doing?

My busy brain got the better of me one morning last week and to shut it up I meditated. Whether meditation is for you or not, I think it teaches a huge skill in life. That skill is pretty much not to think too much and to live fully in the moment.

Think about things to a certain extent, but not too much that it removes a passion, or happiness, or peace. When things get too much – stop. Focus on the moment, enjoy the here and now, count your blessings and live.

Categories
Non-fiction Observations Writing

My Writing Space: what it means to me

If I have learnt nothing else from my time as an aspiring writer it’s that if the space in which I am trying to write in isn’t right then, I am not going to get a lot of writing done.

Sometimes I choose my desk. On it there is a radio, some twinkling fairy lights inside a glass jar (pointless but important), a photo of my Grandad and I at my 21st, candles, place mats, my laptop and an owl pot filled with corks and stones (again, totally useless but crucial).

From my desk I can look out to a view over fields. In the summer this view is gorgeously clear, blue skies and greenery. Occasionally it is blurred through the raindrops hitting the window, but that just makes me more thankful that I am inside and at my desk. On a good winters day the view is spectacularly white from frost or snow and it is, especially when writing, one of my favorite views.

Sometimes I choose the sofa. Since getting our puppy who is extremely lovable if not a little bit of a distraction, I struggle to work upstairs at my desk if nobody else is around. This is why I have acquired a new working space on the corner sofa that is so comfortable that if hungover I simply sleep and no words are written. Sometimes my feet are up, sometimes they are not but always my slippers are on. My dog, Arkley, likes to nestle in between me and my laptop on my lap, listening intently to me reading short stories aloud while editing them.

Sometimes I choose outside. When the weather is being nice, I just have to work outdoors. There is a little bench in my garden and the sun is guartuneed to shine on one seat. That is the seat I choose to sit at. I lay everything out as if on my desk; my laptop, diary, coffee and usually another sugary beverage to spark up some extra motivation. Here, I enjoy the warmth while producing more material.

Then there’s my other place. A house of my friends which I find so special when it comes to my writing. I discovered while house sitting there that it had a good effect on my writing. New ideas flowed and the motivation lingered so that I just couldn’t stop. Whether it was changing my space or something in the air over that pocket of land, I’m not sure, but there is something in it that means a lot to me and my work.

One day, I know (hope) I live in a wonderful house looking out over a lake because water too helps me and my words. Whenever I got to the beach even if I don’t intend to, I write or note down so many ideas which flow out of my overwhelmed mind. Being by water is certainly something for the soul, but it helps my writing too.

So as pernickety as this all may sound, these are the spaces in which I like to write and they are very special to me.

Categories
fiction Writing

Dining Room

Dad and I have been waiting for our starter for over fifteen minutes now since ordering and I am beginning to get impatient. The hunger is very real shown through the embarrassing grumbles in my stomach and the angry expression which I can feel upon my face so I try to take my focus elsewhere to forget about it for a while.

A voice beckons from the entrance where the diners have only just arrived, but a man in a black suit impatiently fidgets which I guess is so that he will be noticed by the wait staff. His wife is swiftly tugging at his suit jacket to prompt him to quit the act, but his frustration is showing through the redness and stern expression all over his face. The quiet atmosphere in the restaurant calls for only whispers so though he is speaking soft but firmly, his words appear as a bellowing as if he’s at a fun fare with a homophone attached to his jaw.

Eventually a nervous waitress attends to them when he almost leads her to an available table and pulls out the chair for himself before his gentlemanly duties of allowing his wife a seat first.

A man to the left of the couple is clearly indulging in a similar form of scrutiny as myself as I can clearly see his right eye glaring at them while attempting to act subtle by keeping his left eye focussed on the menu. His hands are shaking as if he is waiting on a first date with a beautiful lady but the rest of his body appears to be waiting on no one. His gaze keeps shifting between the couple and his menu so that when the waitress asks him if he is ready to order, he directs her away to give him some minutes more.

While the couple to his right are ordering with the poor waitress, his attention shifts to elsewhere in the room bringing my focus there as well. It is at this moment that I realise I am no longer people watching but rather following this man and his thoughts.

A couple are quietly but equally loudly showing their affection for one another. The observing man looks concerned at this but the man involved is beaming with happiness and pride. Having already demolished their starters to not miss out on lovingly kissing while they await the mains, the lady sidles up to the man in a teasing manner ending with her sat upon his knee.

So that I don’t look obvious in my observations and because it’s making me a little queasy, I remove my gaze from the two and back to the single man who looks more depressed than before. The couple to the right are onto their mains when I notice Dad’s Mussels coming out.

Categories
Non-fiction Observations Writing

Keeping up with the socials

Being a young person isn’t easy. Being a person isn’t always easy. Particularly if that person is starting out a business or a new career through which social media is essential.

In this day and age many people can’t go to the toilet without announcing it on Facebook. They can’t go to the supermarket and bag themselves a bargain without a Tweet to say how fabulous they feel. They can’t sit and do some work without capturing the setup of their laptop, coffee and diary in a structured fashion. I am a huge culprit of this.

I would be lying if I said all of what you see on my social media accounts is the reality. Of course I edit photos from nights out, I big up scenarios to make them sound better than they were and I comment on other people’s feeds far more enthusiastically and witty than I would be if in conversation with them in real life.

Above all in the hyper-reality league table come my writing social feeds. Since aspiring to be an author and realising fast that a lot of the publicity would be up to me whether I self publish or get signed by an agent, I set up a Facebook page, a blog, an Instagram site and a Twitter account all dedicated to my life as an aspiring writer.

Instantly the followers crept in as did the supportive messages from other like-minded individuals. The trouble was that I soon realised I needed to be posting a lot more than I did (and that still needs to be increased).

After having my Instagram account for a week and posting every three days, I knew instantly that I needed to increase that to every day. My blog, Twitter and Facebook feeds are works in progress too as I desperately try to increase my activity (and find the time to do so).

This task sounds easy to some but trust me it is a lot more difficult than you would think. Firstly figuring out what to post about and which images to use is a tricky task, but being motivated and in the mood to post all the time is another thing altogether.

I have been known to post about my fabulously sunny afternoon (#Friyay) making me so happy while in floods of tears, severely hormonal. I have been known to post a sunny idyllic setup, when in fact I am in bed. I have been known to make my views about something sound exceedingly positive when I am breaking inside with negativity over it.

However, it isn’t all doom and gloom. I am getting the hang of it and trying to be ever more real with all of my feeds while also coming across so many other accounts where people are doing great.

Ultimately, I find social media a positive tool in business and careers. Judging by the accounts I follow and from talking to friends I think it’s comforting to people going through health issues and such like, writing about their situation, inspiring others and gaining a boost through those who are suffering with them. I think it’s encouraging to those training for a big event and using social media for advice, enthusiasm and good vibes. It’s also good to know that so many people support you and most only wish you well.

So, while using social networks for publicity of career aspirations, awareness around health issues, or support for a big event is a struggle, a full time job and difficult to increase a following when you’re a nobody, social media is (mostly) brilliant for this!

(In my opinion)