A few years ago, I stopped working in an office 9-5 structured sort of way. I had worked like a driven banshee since I left university, so I was giddy with excitement and apprehension in equal measure. After about six weeks on the mummies-coffee-morning circuit I was a wreck. For twelve years I had brought up my children, run a home and functioned physically on a daily basis without an awful lot of input from my peers.
This was a very different style of living. The mummies consulted each other on absolutely everything; what to feed them, when they should go to bed, how long to do prep, The Facebook Question. I inhaled a silly amount of caffeine and silently ate a stack of cakes as I absorbed the painful truth that most people ask for help. They also spend quite a lot of time considering options, finding out how other people do things, and then slowly come to a conclusion, gathering facts along the way.
I panicked. I've never over-thought anything in my nelly. I teamed up with another recent-released-from-daily-grind Mummy and we whirled off into an 18-month adventure setting up a vintage and handmade homewares business. We belted about rescuing treasures from old junk shops and car boot sales. We painted and restored, mended, stencilled, sanded and shabbier. We took stalls at little vintage and antique fairs and made bunting. We made lovely cushions out of old-fashioned wool blankets and embroidered surreal and amusing and soppy things on them in colours that reminded us of the seaside.
After a lot of fun but not quite as much profit, we're going to do other things. She, with a heart as big as Wales, is caring for less happy children than our own. I, with a yellow streak down my back as wide as the Thames, am trying to write. I have finished six out of ten short stories that I wanted to publish this Autumn and I am stuck.
My cupboards are alphabetised and there is nothing in my house, cellar or attic that is not labelled. Should there be a pandemic, I could feed most of this county on the food I have cooked and stashed in the freezer. My linen cupboard is more starched and anally organised than Martha Stewart's. The dog is skin and bones from daily hikes.
So I am asking for help. How do you write? When, where? How do you shut the internal monologue off and the bloody computer screen on?
Just don't make me go back to those coffee mornings or i don't think I'll be able to get out of bed.
Writing. Don't you just hate it? The idea of it that is, the getting down to it.
ReplyDeleteOnce lost in it, that's an entirely different story.
I use catching-up on what unimportant, obnoxious, pseudo-celebs whom I have never seen and have no idea how anyone cares what they think (do they think?) and obsessing about the American elections as my major escapes from writing.
I often wonder if the Internet were not one click away from the chapter page I should be re-writing if my closets would be well organized, my wardrobe culled to a reasonable and intelligent size, the cupboards and contents alphabetized -- probably not. I know my dog would be happier if I would put on a coat and take her into the fields behind our house.
Honestly, creative releases for not doing what we should be doing are underrated. Maybe that's a book. . .
Let's talk about those six stories.
xoxoxoxo,
Tish
Tish, you are my wardrobe pin-up, please tell me it's already as you describe. No feet of clay to stamp on my illusions...
DeleteLove your time wastes!
And thank you, you have really helped.
Always with love
E x
PS yes, let's! Though almost 7 now. I need an epidural...
Most blogs I visit are "picture books" - a little visual stimulus. There are only two blogs I visit for the incredible writing - Mon Avis, Mes Amis and The House of Edward.
ReplyDeleteI so look forward to each of your posts, you are a wonderful writer. As for when and where to write - I am the Queen of procrastination, so not much help there :)
I wanted you to know how much I appreciate your talent.
Sincerely,
Miranda
San Francisco Bay Area
Miranda, what a generous and delightful thing to say and I am genuinely flattered. So pleased you read it and so relieved I am not alone.
DeleteCheers!
E
I am in writing procrastination purgatory this very moment. It's part of the process for me...sitting down to start can take months, but once I start I'm all in and pretty good at it. I've not been able to figure how to start sooner and mostly just accept that it's all part of the process. Sorry to be of such pathetic non-help.
ReplyDeleteAnn, au contraire, to hear that the battle is won by just starting has been of enormous practical help today and got me from existential navel-gazing to tea-fuelled keyboard pummelling In about 30 minutes. I send you gratitude and cake xx
DeleteI write to breathe.
ReplyDeleteYou do, and I would be proud to be a tenth of the writer you are. It shows in your terse punching phrases; these worded NEED yo be said.
DeleteI, on the other hand, feel as though I'm holding my breath.
Between midnight & 6AM. Glass of excellent wine at your side. Bottle not too far away. Open mind to endless possibilities, craziness & giggles.
ReplyDeleteLove love love...sent from Texas...
Gorgeous Marsha! You're right! All this monastic tea-drinking and sensible bedtimes. That's where I've been going wrong; clearly I need to start drinking again and staying up way past my bedtime. God help us...
DeleteLove to you xxx
I think you lost your focus once your house was organized from top to bottom. Come visit. You can sort out my place. There's plenty to do here, at least five stories' worth. :)
ReplyDeleteYes I did! On my way, labeller in hand..!
DeleteI used to have an editor who was fond of quoting Jack London: You can't wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club. If I find myself hanging back or making pitiful, half-hearted stabs at a story, I don't leave my chair. (I did that early on and ended up staying up all night to make a deadline.) My mind may float a bit, but then I throw myself into the story. Once I've begun, it's all downhill. I may change that initial paragraph later, but that's fine. It served its purpose---it got the ball rolling.
ReplyDeleteGood luck. Don't worry so much about how to go about it.
Janet, this is fantastic advice and yes, half-hearted stabs was about it. I LOVE the idea of the club and have taken your editor's wise words to heart. And yours. You're so kind, thank you!
DeleteE
You can do it the same way I did my dissertation, 100 words at a time. matter if they are crap, what matters is putting something down. Shoot for five hundred a day, five minute breaks between chunks. I think doing it in the morning is best because then you are done for the day.
ReplyDeleteSorry, that should have been "Doesn't matter if they are crap".
ReplyDeleteOK, that makes sense, very structures and 500 hundred words of whatever quality first thing. I think that would certainly blow my mid-afternoon self-loathing out of the water. Thank you.
DeleteI'm not a writer. But when I was retired, I wrote for my blog religiously. And I got up every morning at 6am and worked at writing until at least 11am.
ReplyDeleteThat was the best I could do. Stephen King recommends the methodology, or so I discovered after I'd been doing it for a few months.
LPC, if you're not a writer, I don't know who is.
DeleteThere is a very self-disciplined thread running through this. I will take the advice because it does make sense. Stephen King. Hmm. I wonder what Nancy Mitford did..!
My dear I adore your writings so much I savor them...I visit your blog with the intent purpose of a slow and enjoyable read...letting your words sink in. It is your extreme craftsmanship with words and honest sentiment that has me returning again...and again!
ReplyDeleteThough not being a writer myself, I can still completely relate to your dilemma...only too well...my studio is presently riddled with great starts and promise...but seems to be lacking any legitimate follow through. This behavior is so contrary for me...as I have up until recently...been absolutely driven. I take comfort in the fact that somebody as wildly talented as yourself...has some dry spells too.
Tamera, what a delightful and generous message, I am very grateful. You've given me a real lift today, thank you!
DeleteI like the phrase 'dry spells' so much better than head-thumping hair-tearing sulks.
"Riddled with great starts and promise..' I'm putting that on a T-shirt!
In the short time since I've discovered you, well your blog really, I look forward to each new post with alacrity. Perhaps this is because of the labels you have applied to this post, which reinforce your sense of fun, and your intellect. We can't have bon mots all the time, so this episode is your brain searching for the inspiration to find the next batch. And you will. As they say in America: "you go girl".
ReplyDeleteColumnist. I thank you! I love your idea of the brain's hiatus; I shall remember that when next time I panic that it has, in fact, gone to a better home.
DeleteI say 'you go girl' in my house too; I think in ghetto fabulous tones. It would appear not.
Gratuitous advice: When to write so you'll want to begin-when you're most relaxed. Where-a place you can call your own. A video interview with Shelby Foote was one I most enjoyed as describing his everyday/week schedule when writing one of his many epic civil war books. As some described earlier he preferred to rise early and write until noon; the afternoon was for relaxing with friends including a leisurely dinner. He also I think wrote by hand on yellow tablets.
ReplyDeletejrandyv
Portland Oregon
jrandvy - not gratuitous at all! I am grateful beyond words that you bothered to respond to my plea, thank you for your generosity, and it looks like I will be tapping at dawn!
Deleteit's the: recent-released-from-daily-grind Mummy here.
ReplyDelete1.FFS breathe will you? You're going blue.
2.Thank the internal monologue as soon as it speaks, then with your 1930's tennis racquet, bat the b******s away. It's noise.To coin your phrase: "FFS it's a FFBK..." that's all it is, I promise.
3.breathe again and then
4.stroke your notepad, it's your friend...and TRUST yourself. I do. x
Offof - I know, I know, you're right again. This is becoming a habit.
DeleteBreathing and stroking, breathing and stroking...
xx
How about you pretend you are writing a blog post and just keep going. Reach the end of paragraph four, throw in another tense, two more characters and type headlong along, letting it turn into whatever it likes till you really, really need a tea. And then revise it when the sun has gone down.
ReplyDeleteMise, lovely to see you, and thanks! For the truly ridiculous reason that I imagine blog readers to be absolute lambs, full of twinkly kindness and willing to overlook the odd howler. Whereas the OTHERS are scary bristling types who probably look like the children catcher and shriek with derision at the end of every paragraph.
DeleteAm replacing B with A immediately, and trying to persuade myself that in fact I DON'T need a tea every 13 minutes or so...
I got the giggles reading this post and replies. I'm at a complete halt with ANY writing and am desperately trying to psych myself into it.
ReplyDeleteThe housework is done, the shelves are tidy in linen cupboard, pantry, bathroom and wardrobe. Clothes are obsessively sorted. Books are shelved in vague order (anything more than that would be a logistical nightmare where I would end up cataloguing as I re-order, so there is a self-imposed limitation there).
But I also take heart from the idea that nothing is coming out because nothing is quite ready. Doesn't mean that great ideas and cunning turns of phrase aren't stewing away in there, just that like a good wine, they need a bit of maturing....
Having said all that - a quiet house (ie husband elsewhere) and a cup of coffee (morning) or tea (afternoon) to hand are necessary for me to even look hopefully at a computer screen or blank page. And sometimes hot buttered toast as well.
I see a great career -- home organizer and writing about it. Tidy during the day, type at night. (Or perhaps that's not a UK thing?)
ReplyDelete