When Words Fail Me
I’ve thought about our ‘turning of the year’ conversation a lot since then because it helped me to see that the only person giving me a hard time, is me. Some of it’s due to panic; I’ve had several writing projects in mind and started them only for my Inner Critic to rise up and savage them. Some of it’s due to a sudden urge to put everything in order, a frenzied outbreak of cupboard tidying as if I’m trying to create a sense of calm so I can concentrate in peace. And a lot of it’s because I’ve been ill, in pain, busy with other commitments, worried about other people, irritable and feeling generally burn-out.
What to do? I hate anything I perceive as wasting time, but even I’ve had to admit that sometimes you just have to stop and refill the well. Firstly I’ve tried not to think about writing, but to do lots of reading. And while I’m on the subject of books, two I particularly enjoyed at the tail end of last year, were Helen Macdonald’s beautiful, obsessive H is for Hawk and Henry Marsh’s troubling and unflinching Do No Harm: Stories of Life, Death and Brain Surgery. I’ve listened to new (to me) music including Ben Howard and Grey Reverend. I’ve been able to go out running again (hurray) and we’ve also taken time simply soaking up the views along this quiet, unique coastal strip.
The first sign that I might not entirely have forgotten how to write came when my publishers asked for volunteers to contribute to a series of very short stories, based on the theme of the Twelve Days of Christmas, to be given away as post-Christmas treats. After several days of wringing my hands over ‘Four Calling Birds’, the alchemy suddenly happened and my characters came to me as if I was watching a film. And then one of the projects I’ve had in mind started interrupting my sleep and demanding attention. In some ways I dread the hard work, the long hours, the madness of characters taking over my head, but the compensation is a visceral thrill, which I can’t compare with anything else, when the first stirrings of a novel feel right. So now to the long road ahead and brave new words!
Many thanks, Amey, for the inspirational glass pictured above. I look forwards to reaching The End!