I know what you're thinking. You're thinking why has she been away so long. You're probably assuming that I was so consumed by my writing that I just couldn't fit updating my blog in my busy yet eccentric writer's schedule. You're thinking I wonder what new advice she'll have after all this time away practicing. Either that or your thinking, this isn't the page I searched for.
In either case, I'm afraid I have disappointed you. Over the last, however long its been, I quit university, I ran away on a road trip around Australia, I met several hippies, went vegan for about 2 hours, and I wrote a total of zero words. Well there were directions and shopping lists. But I just don't think 'second exit at the roundabout', and 'don't forget lube' is all that intriguing. Well maybe a little, but you can read about it in my other, much saucier blog.
I've been doing too many fun adventury things, and I've not been keeping a journal, and now I wish I had. I wish I had every secret whispered into my ear written down. I wish I recounted as it happened, every stroke of my hair, every feeling that rushed through me as I climbed rocks, and hiked mountains and had panic attacks and had fights about how anxiety cannot be cured through healthy eating and about all the funny things I thought of on the road and all of the mixed emotions as I let someone into my heart after so long of it being empty and the feeling of being held so tightly and the feeling of saying goodbye and crying in my car. I will try to grasp at these memories, desperately clutching at the words that will keep them safe for me until I one day look back on my experiences and smile at the life I've lived and the people I've shared it with, but not yet.
I will do this when I am home. When I am home I will start working seriously on my novel. When I am home I will start writing memories of my life, because so far it is the only thing I know how to write with the honesty and feeling that I see in my favourite authors. When I am home I will figure out a schedule for updating this blog, along with my personal one, and my youtube as well.
When I am home, I will sit and write 9am til 5pm every day until I produce something of worth.
Right now I need sleep. I have an 11 and a half hour drive tomorrow and an 8 and a half hour drive the following day. Its harder without my French man directing me, not the driving or navigation, it just feels so empty without him. This will go away, and I will recover, but there's something kind of beautiful about missing someone. It feels like a really healthy kind of sadness.
People die in car crashes all the time. And so in the event of an accident, I want to record how happy and free I've felt. I pray sometimes and my faith is weak but there. I sin often, but I am forgiven.
My time with Baptiste, and just my time pushing myself to go beyond my own fears has been the best I've known. Sometimes I used to have intense euphoric highs followed by this impenetrable darkness with a numb feeling to it. My sister asked me once if I had manic depression. Maybe I did, I'm not sure. But this time, this happiness, was more substantial, nothing crazy or over the top but a strong feeling I could really depend on. There were no shallow stories of crazy drunken nights out, that led to more wild times. It was more serious, more stern, with 'what would you like for lunch' conversations and feeling sick together from that rich pasta sauce I made us and those tired embraces every time we reached our destination that ended up as just falling on each other trying to rest just for a second before we had to check in. There were warm smiles and holding hands and closing my eyes to the sun on my face after such a cold winter. There was the strange sensation of having sex with someone who wasn't just in it for the sex. With someone who thought, thinks I am cool and likes hanging out and talking more than anything physical anyway, but that is a nice part too.
And then there was music and politics and sisters and festivals which have enriched every moment, and in two days I will be home and my travels will be over, and I'm not sad, because I am too busy being happy that I had all of these opportunities. I have experienced life. It's like when you smell real earth, or dirt. Its not like candy, or hot chocolate, or flowers, but you breathe in heavily because you know your smelling something real, something with substance and something that is down to its depths, good.
Tuesday, 4 August 2015
Thursday, 11 June 2015
The Beginning
Hello, Welcome to my blog. You are about to witness something historical happen. Over the course of the next 6 months, I will attempt to become.. wait for it.. a writer. Ok so its not that impressive, and definitely a well trodden path, but I have neither talent nor any real work ethic, so if I pull it off, it will be a feat.
There will be two types of posts, the practical ones where I will collect all the writing tips, author quotes, reading lists and exercises, that I've discovered in my general procrastination on the web, and put it all in one place to be the most helpful to you. The next will be about the experience of becoming a writer, so you get a real inside look into a writers head (because you know that is such a rare experience... if you exclude every book written ever).
Why am I doing this? I hear you groan at me, after you realised you were tricked here because you thought I was someone famous/successful. Is it because I love learning how to write? Is it because the process is just so beautiful and too cute like a sheep-shaped tea cosy not to share with others? Is it because I'm procrastinating from doing assignments? Maybe. But I really love the idea of community, and the internet, when used properly, can do amazing things to bring people together to inspire and encourage each other. (notice how I didn't say critique and put down - I'm talking to you Gerald!)
Ever since I can remember I've wanted to be Beatrix Potter. I've wanted to live in a cottage, have farm animals and a real fire place and spend my days writing letters to the children. This dream then turned into a cool tiny house in a forest where every wall is full of books, no one, apart from my several spanish lovers, knows where I live and I read in my hammock bed and make my own bread everyday. I think it has always been the lifestyle that has enticed me the most. Now I'm a little more realistic about it. But I am still completely in love with the idea of wearing the same clothes for days, staying up indefinitely with a rush of inspiration, and then in the lulls taking on extra shifts at that casual job I am just surviving on, and then visiting cafes, soaking up culture and material and reading as many books as possible over 2 minute noodles. I can't even describe how amazing this life sounds to me.
But it wasn't until someone told me how much hard work went into being a writer, that I started to see it as a genuine possibility rather than just an unlikely pipedream, like being famous/rich.
Ok so here is the first piece of practical advice which you have heard before.
Write.
Write, everyday, if you have an idea for a story that's great, but if not, still write. Write how you are feeling, describe your current setting or all the people in your office, write fake letters to friends, telling them about what's happened in your life. When someone is learning to paint, they don't start and just assume they can paint that picture they see in their head, they first learn how to draw a hand, and a chair and perspective and shadow.
Writers need to learn this too, learn the art of creating a world out of words, how to make a chair appear in their readers heads. I have a notebook for this, and a folder called 'collection of writings' on word.
Next Practical Advice: Start a blog.
Given that the internet is so big, chances are it will go completely unnoticed. This is a good thing. It means you don't have to worry about judgement, but it still feels like getting your work out there. The blog can be about anything, I have one that's about my personal life. Like a slightly more eloquent version of my diary. You can make up a fictional one where two fake people write letters to each other, you can make up one describing people you see on the train and creating character backgrounds for them, you can have one dedicated entirely to painting the picture of a setting and nothing happens. You can have a blog dedicated entirely to describing your dreams. To name a few ideas.
Next time I'm going to talk about beginning a novel.
There will be two types of posts, the practical ones where I will collect all the writing tips, author quotes, reading lists and exercises, that I've discovered in my general procrastination on the web, and put it all in one place to be the most helpful to you. The next will be about the experience of becoming a writer, so you get a real inside look into a writers head (because you know that is such a rare experience... if you exclude every book written ever).
Why am I doing this? I hear you groan at me, after you realised you were tricked here because you thought I was someone famous/successful. Is it because I love learning how to write? Is it because the process is just so beautiful and too cute like a sheep-shaped tea cosy not to share with others? Is it because I'm procrastinating from doing assignments? Maybe. But I really love the idea of community, and the internet, when used properly, can do amazing things to bring people together to inspire and encourage each other. (notice how I didn't say critique and put down - I'm talking to you Gerald!)
Ever since I can remember I've wanted to be Beatrix Potter. I've wanted to live in a cottage, have farm animals and a real fire place and spend my days writing letters to the children. This dream then turned into a cool tiny house in a forest where every wall is full of books, no one, apart from my several spanish lovers, knows where I live and I read in my hammock bed and make my own bread everyday. I think it has always been the lifestyle that has enticed me the most. Now I'm a little more realistic about it. But I am still completely in love with the idea of wearing the same clothes for days, staying up indefinitely with a rush of inspiration, and then in the lulls taking on extra shifts at that casual job I am just surviving on, and then visiting cafes, soaking up culture and material and reading as many books as possible over 2 minute noodles. I can't even describe how amazing this life sounds to me.
But it wasn't until someone told me how much hard work went into being a writer, that I started to see it as a genuine possibility rather than just an unlikely pipedream, like being famous/rich.
Ok so here is the first piece of practical advice which you have heard before.
Write.
Write, everyday, if you have an idea for a story that's great, but if not, still write. Write how you are feeling, describe your current setting or all the people in your office, write fake letters to friends, telling them about what's happened in your life. When someone is learning to paint, they don't start and just assume they can paint that picture they see in their head, they first learn how to draw a hand, and a chair and perspective and shadow.
Writers need to learn this too, learn the art of creating a world out of words, how to make a chair appear in their readers heads. I have a notebook for this, and a folder called 'collection of writings' on word.
Next Practical Advice: Start a blog.
Given that the internet is so big, chances are it will go completely unnoticed. This is a good thing. It means you don't have to worry about judgement, but it still feels like getting your work out there. The blog can be about anything, I have one that's about my personal life. Like a slightly more eloquent version of my diary. You can make up a fictional one where two fake people write letters to each other, you can make up one describing people you see on the train and creating character backgrounds for them, you can have one dedicated entirely to painting the picture of a setting and nothing happens. You can have a blog dedicated entirely to describing your dreams. To name a few ideas.
Next time I'm going to talk about beginning a novel.
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