Tag: inspiration

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fiction Stories Writing

A LOCK DOWN NOVEL: 4

(a snippet of)

Chapter 4 Erin

Of course, I worried a little initially about the horror stories I had heard. The trolls, the glamorous accounts of false lives to make me feel awful about my own, the mass of uneducated opinions, the dangerously fast addiction and everything else in between, but I never thought much about it all. Besides being sixteen in 2019 meant that I had a firm grasp of what lay before me and I felt strong enough to cope with life on social media.

At the beginning I tried to remain strong anyway. It was more to prove a point to my mum but a fraction of it was fear of the inevitable. I could feel instantly the addiction looming. After two days of having access to the virtual social world, my phone was the first thing I went to pick up in the morning and the last thing that I put down at night. I spent hours scrolling and still do, but I don’t know why because after doing so I have never gained anything more or lost anything, my life remains exactly as it was.

On days when I feel bad about my own image, Instagram strengthens this sad emotion when I witness the accounts not of celebrities but of my own friends looking like celebrities. Their accounts fill my newsfeed with perfection and no flaws. The perfect brunch, the most exotic holiday venues, the prettiest new haircuts that look better than I looked that time when I had my hair and all my makeup done by a professional for a family wedding back in Ireland.

At the weekend I see friends and acquaintances out having fun. I always think to myself how they are doing the things that I should be doing when I am visiting Mummy or at work. Friends who have gone to places without even asking me so of course I feel totally left out and forgotten. Acquaintances who I don’t even care about doing things that make my Saturday night look so boring and suddenly I am deeply involved with care for the comparison.

On a more distant level, I see opinions all the time that I completely disagree with or that make me so angry that I can feel my face going red. I see people being horrible openly in their statuses or indirect Tweets and I laugh a little inside in agreement, but never would I say it to their face. I don’t wish to be involved with that kind of negative behavior, but it is too easy to get sucked in.

Categories
fiction Writing

A LOCK DOWN NOVEL: 5

(a snippet of)

Chapter 5 Jack

In the bathroom I have a stool to stand on to brush my teeth properly and wash my face thoroughly. I needed it to reach the sink when I was younger, but now I have grown a bit and only use it so that I have that extra bit of height because our bathroom sink is quite deep and higher up than a normal one.

Mummy bought me an electric toothbrush for my tenth birthday because she said that once you reach double digits you are old enough to have one and this made me very excited. I now brush my teeth better than I ever did before, but it means that now they know I am awake because they can hear me in the bathroom.

‘Oh hello Jack. I didn’t see you sneak in here! Did you sleep ok?’ Eileen says to me while putting her arms around me and squeezing me tight. I nod in reply.

My tooth brush buzzes three times quickly and that’s when I know it’s time to stop. Cleaning is finished for another morning. Now it’s time to wash my face with my new wash that Eileen got me. She said it will stop big spots coming early so that I will never get bullied when I become a teenager. I didn’t understand what she meant but I don’t ever want to get bullied, so I always use it to wash my face.

Finally, the screaming has stopped and I think Erin is ready to leave the house. I just have to put my clothes on but that won’t take very long at all because Eileen and I laid them out all neat last night before I went to bed. As I am getting dressed I hear the car doors open outside on the driveway and this makes me happy because it means that there will be no more waiting around before leaving the house for whatever it is we have to do and wherever it is we are going.

I get in the car and wait a few moments while Eileen locks up and makes sure that Flo is happy and won’t destroy the kitchen cupboards like she has done occasionally when she got anxious with us being away for a long time. Flo is my favourite.

As we drive out of our close along the busy road into York city centre, I think about all the happy times that I have had with Flo. I’m not allowed to walk her on my own yet, but I still enjoy walks with her because even if I am with Eileen or Erin or even Mummy sometimes then I still can feel like I’m all on my own.

Our drive keeps stopping and starting because of lots of traffic lights but I’m not taking too much notice because I am thinking about Flo and all the good times we’ve had. Suddenly our drive stops completely and I realise that we are here. The car park is busy and the signs suggest we are at a police station or a station where policemen go but I don’t know why this would be or why Erin would need to come here on a Saturday when she’s not at school.

Categories
fiction Writing

A LOCK DOWN NOVEL: 3

(a snippet of)

Chapter 3, Mary

I went to the park, to the café, to the pond and took in nature. I walked up the high street and looked into the windows of shops but didn’t buy anything. I passed many pubs but didn’t venture in and smelt the soothing smell of active cigarettes and didn’t break my eight-month streak of no smoking, not even a vape.

I even went for an early evening stroll which has frequently saved my days in the past when I have found myself in the same mood as this one, but it just felt weird. I felt as if I could have walked aimlessly for miles and miles with no change, yet usually it only takes until the bench by the river, two miles from the start, to begin to feel the benefits.

This time however, I was walking along and felt as if the whole world was spinning too fast around me. I passed a lady with a Jack Russel puppy who was walking rather slow paced but everyone else was on fast forward. She didn’t acknowledge me behind her until I got right up close. It was one of those situations where it’s difficult to gauge when to cough loudly or politely say excuse me so that the person in question will hear and precious time won’t be wasted with you remaining stuck behind them for longer. I had my earphones in so wasn’t so embarrassed as half of my attention was on the beautiful music gently seeping into my eardrums and taking me briefly out of the moment, but as I got creepily closer to her shoulder I hoped more for her to notice me and shift to the left slightly so that I could pass.

The cars seemed to be speeding, the light seemed to be darkening more rapidly than normal, the electric gates were closing fast on the big house just up the road and even objects that shouldn’t be moving appeared to have some element of momentum to them. The trees, houses, grass, roads, fences – everything. I felt as if I was high on drugs and hallucinating like I was in a dream. It didn’t feel as though my feet were capable of being firmly placed on the ground I was walking on, so quite frankly the experience was disturbing and uncomfortable as opposed to having the benefits that Dr Knoll frequently harped on about.

I had to stop moving myself to firmly place my feet on the earth and slap my face to make sure that it was reality that I was walking through and my coffee hadn’t been spiked in the café I had been in earlier in the day. I did think the man behind me in the queue looked a little dodgy and was casting his eyes on my movements for longer than I felt comfortable about. Yet I know how cynical my thoughts can be sometimes, particularly when I am alone.

Categories
Non-fiction Observations Writing

My Writing Season

I could say that my favourite writing season is in the spring with the dawn of a new year and the happiness of new life everywhere. Springlike scenes of snowdrops and lambs, the sound of young birds chirping at their mothers, asking to be fed.

I could say that my favourite writing season is the summer time bringing the warm outdoors and one of my preferred places in which to write. Content in my outside setup feeling the sun on my face and having lots of energy throughout the day. Longer days so I don’t feel so tired but rather inspired to write more with more ideas and a greater flow.

I could say that my favourite writing season is autumn, the colours on the trees bringing beautiful scenes to write about and describe. The darkening days and much more rain so there is plenty of time to sit inside and write.

I could say that my favourite writing season is winter with darkness filling the space so there is nothing to do but write. Though tiredness presents itself, when better to think up ideas but while falling asleep at night or waking up in the morning? Especially when outside is so black and the days aren’t very welcoming, encouraging you to stay in bed rather than get out of it.

Instead though, I’ll say that I have no favourite writing season but I certainly have times when I write best. The morning. The sunshine. High energy days. Low energy days. Days when I need to escape. Days when I must tell the world everything.

During the process of writing my first novel I initially planned to write a few chapters a week. Of course I did, I started in the spring! A month down the line and that plan had changed. Sometimes a chapter, occasionally two and sometimes not even half.

Writing inspiration appears in the most random ways, there is no structure at all. That is being a creative I suppose!

You never know when it’ll happen but when it does embrace it and write and write and write!