One
of the problems when it comes to writing the Friday blog is that at
the moment, for obvious reasons, we are doing very little - thus
there is very little to report. To make matters worse this week the
weather has been horrid down here (and, yes, they were enjoying
wonderful sunshine and a heat wave further up country). Throughout my
life I have needed a real connection with nature to get any creative
juices I may have to start moving, albeit sluggishly, and I have
missed any such input this week. Oh well: some you win and some you
lose. This need is the theme for the pictures.
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| It may be something on a large scale . . . |
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| . . . or something quite small. |
That
paragraph may read oddly to those of you who know that I often write
the blog in one or other of the cafés we patronise. (Incidentally,
as soon as I typed that last word I realised that it sounds dreadful.
There is a muddle here between patronising in the sense of supporting
and in the sense of being condescending to. Anyway, I meant the word
as definition one.) The thing is that there are a number of mental
steps towards producing anything such as an article, a blog or even a
letter to a friend.
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Something on the coast . . .
|
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| . . . or something inland. |
The
first step is to create a mental space in which words can jumble
around together, make connections and begin to make sense of what you
want to say. This is why there are times when people talking to you
at the wrong moment can be so incredibly irritating – without
realising it they are making this step very much harder.
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| Something wild . . . |
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| . . . or something cultivated. |
Hopefully
during step one some sort of theme will present itself and the time
has come to move on to step two. This is what I would describe as
‘the deep brood step’ when you investigate the various directions
in which you can go, try to decide what will be important and what
will not and the order in which those selected should be written.
This is usually completely mental – at least for me. No notes and
yet, when I have finished, I will have explored every strand to the
very end even if I am not sure which (if any) will live to see the
light of day. Quite often this takes place (in part at least for it
is a step often broken into a number of ‘steplets’) in the
middle of the night.
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| Somewhere bleak . . . |
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| . . . or warm and lush. |
Now
we settle down to write. A bit of buzz, things going on to give out
some energy: I’m not sure what it is and it could be quite mundane
but you do need something to get you started. When you are actually
writing you do not want to be interrupted – you very seriously do
not want that. Most of the time there will be a certain phrase that
you are holding on to in your head until your fingers have caught up
and it is written. Until then it is in great peril. The wrong word at
the wrong time and it will be lost – and probably lost for ever.
So, no interruptions means you have a choice. Bury yourself in your
study or work in one of the cafés where you know people will leave
you alone – partly because I am sure there is a good deal in my
body language that says ‘do not interrupt’ (I have been told that
when I am writing I look very unapproachable) and partly because I
am sure that people are terrified that if they do talk to you you
will bore the pants off them.
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Something big and bold . . .
|
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| . . . or small and shy. |
If
the last sentence puzzles you I would say that Totnes is a great
place for people who want to be writers and these are only too
pleased to have someone stop and ask them what they are writing. Once
the question has been posed the flood gates tend to open and the poor
questioner is now a captive audience for however long it takes.
This
week steps one and two were taken in bed – step three in my study
while (oh the irony of the situation) Marcia is sitting in Totnes
outside Seeds and enjoying a spot of mid-morning coffee in the
sunshine. This I know as she has just sent me a text to tell me so.
Mind you, this is a reward for doing the shopping so it would be
churlish to complain.
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| Humour me. What do think this is? |
Finally,
I love reading your comments (both here and on Facebook) and emails.
Most days I receive over a hundred emails and it is with deep regret
that I can’t answer them all. As time goes on I spend more and more
time asleep and I really can’t keep up but please don’t stop. I
find them very encouraging and a great source of strength so many,
many thanks to you all. I will, of course, answer as many as I can.
