The first book published in my name is a book about an embroiderer.
Sigh, you say. Where’s the drama, where’s the angst.
April’s coming? The last month of the first quarter of the year?
I have to look back and ask: is there accomplishment in the last almost four months?
Well, yes. I’ve almost finished Michael, despite the hurdles that are being thrown my way.
Fifteen blog posts…
… countless hours of time, a few thousands of words, days spent in tactical talks with the powerhouse of the anti-fish farm movement, weeks spent on the phone raising a fighting fund in the early days, hours spent doing leaflet drops. Even sitting with politicians, talking, talking, talking…
And for what?
‘The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach – waiting for a gift from the sea.’
Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Life sometimes makes me anxious.
I’m sure it makes everyone anxious. But the one place I feel content, free and at peace is in, on or by the sea. I wish Mum was still alive so that I could ask her how old I was when I was introduced to the sea.
When did I learn to swim? My memories go back to a time when I could swim and dive, perhaps I was six. After that, the memories come thick and fast…
Writing can be so demanding that it swallows one whole.
One can spend days sequestered with the doors firmly shut against the world. Even a day’s writing can leave one tired, eye-sore, with fog on the brain. We writers can look up from the computer, see family members and say, ‘Wha…, huh? Who are you?’
It’s a double life. One has mistresses, lovers, enemies and friends that no member of the family has any idea about. A secret life…I tell you, spooks and MI 6 have nothing on a writer.
So how do we anchor ourselves in reality and at the same time, fuel our creative fires? Inspired by Writers’ Unboxed, I decided I’d ask a few writer friends what they do to unwind and yet fuel their creative fires…
My involvement with the beautifully crafted Winters’ Edge Anthology came late, courtesy of my friend, Paul Murphy. He and I belong to a group called Inkslingers Veterans, where anthologies are written to raise money for cancer research. (See Tales from a Carboot Sale, Historical Tales etc on Amazon)