Creative Writing

Writing Workshop: Fast and Slow

Posted by Josie on Sep 26, 2011 in Creative Writing, Fibromyalgia, Me, Writing, Writing Workshop | 12 comments

For as long as I can remember, my life has been about too fast or too slow. On the way to nursery this morning, my boy sped along the lines in the pavement, dragging me by my hand. Fast, fast! he’d shout. And I laughed and we raced and declared ourselves winners. And that’s me, that is. Fast. I am most definitely the pretend horse galloping under cold sunshine, and the runaway train that’s going to catch us, mama! FASTER! I have always been a million miles an hour girl. It makes me skip and trip over my own feet. My head moves faster than I can keep up with sometimes. Mental energy is something that runs out of my ears like too-small hands trying to carry sand. It keeps me awake, it gives me this endless, relentless drive for more and more and more, each tiny cranial space stuffed to the ceiling with bits of paper marked IDEAS! and TOMORROW! and, I could this THIS! And I love it, I do. It makes me feel plugged into something huge. I love jumping into its current and letting it speed me away. I want to go fast. I love fast.

But I have a body that doesn’t like it, and I always have. From so tiny I learnt that my times of running and skipping and FLYING, which is what it would feel like, would mean getting right to the top, fingers outstretched, before something in the mechanics would give and I’d have to brace myself for the crash. And it always comes. Like night follows day, if I fly I have to pay for it, screaming angrily and frustratingly all the way down. And I pay for it with tiredness, and pain, and limbs like lead dragged through treacle. I pay for it with slow. That’s the illness, that’s my wiring, and like it or not, it’s just how things are.

As part of my treatment, for years and years, I was taught that my secret was pacing. I must learn to temper slow and fast with even, steady. Not too much, not too little. And when I was very, very ill, when the slow had won for a long, long time and fast was defined more as having the energy to get up and get myself dressed, than about spending the weekend speeding about on trains having adventures, when I was that ill, even was the only thing for it. I had to give up fast. I had to. I missed it. And I resented it hugely, and it would make me angry, the energy I wished to be pouring into life trapped somewhere I couldn’t get it. But I was patient and after very many hard lessons learnt I got well again. I got very well. I got my fast back and oh god it was wonderful.

Across the Nightingale Floor

Posted by Josie on Aug 30, 2011 in Creative Writing, Kai, Moments, Parenting | 7 comments

“Mama?”

My eyes open in the dark, and yes, I do sigh, out loud, the sound a long, tired exhale through the gap in my duvet. The yellow digits on my clock say something beginning with a three. I don’t look too closely, mind and eyes still fuzzy from sleep. What was I just dreaming about? Something about realising I was at school in my pyjamas and raiding the lost property cupboard, I think. Already I’m being sucked back down again, like there is something under water pulling me down and down. Eyes closed and not closed as I watch a stream of bubbles from my mouth and feel wet pressure in my ears as I sink. Sleep. Oh yes please.

“MAMA!”

Okay, okay I’m awake. I am. I can hear the start of slow, panicky sobs and experience has taught it’s not worth waiting too long else he’ll really wake up and then it will be hours before my head sees its pillow again. My boy’s brain is as busy as mine in sleep, throwing up all sorts of things for him to grapple with. It’ll just be a bad dream I reckon. Right, I’m coming, heaving my legs out of the warm duvet and, Christ, it’s cold. No, no heating on till mid September at the earliest, definitely not. That’s what socks are for, right? And hats and jumpers in the winter. YES indoors. God I’m a miser, I know. Okay. Dressing gown wrapped around shivering frame, I paw around on my floor for a discarded sock, or two if I’m lucky, hopping as I pull them on, already half way down the landing, stubbing a toe on the hoover and swearing loudly. I should move that. I did that yesterday, same toe by the feel of things. Through the wall I can hear him shifting and moaning, calling me again.

Writing Workshop: Walk

Posted by Josie on Aug 8, 2011 in Creative Writing, Moments, Writing, Writing Workshop | 6 comments

…life is mysterious and amazing…

- Souske’s mum, Ponyo

I walk slow in my heavy boots and the sky is big and dark and shifting and full. It will rain soon, but not yet.

I watch his blonde head weave it’s way ahead of me, the wind blowing it out in stiff fronds that blur with the bent grass from which it borrows its colour.

I feel as full up as the sky. Honestly, it’s like there’s a f*cking weather system in my chest. Something that would make a barometer tip and a weathervane spin. Something full of power and, oh God, I don’t know. Potential? I hate that word, usually. Something else, then.

Budding. Incipient. Something alive and green and the kind of purple of closed buds and embryonic cells. The colour of this grass and sky, actually, which I pace through and which tickles my bare calves and makes my head buzz as I hold on to my short dress.

Writing Workshop Prompts – Object Stories

Posted by Josie on Mar 7, 2011 in Creative Writing, Writing, Writing Prompts | 1 comment

As someone with a fascination for stories, I’ve always loved the idea of psychometry, that is, people who claim to be able to tell the ‘story’ of an object just by touching it.

Whether you believe in the validity of such claims or not, nobody could deny that most objects do carry with them a history, whether we know it or not. In our melamine, plastic, disposable culture it can sometimes feel like objects with real history are hard to find now, but we all them: a piece of furniture, an item of jewellery, a plate or ornament or picture etc. Not always showy or fancy, but something that has a past.

This week I want you to look around your home and pick an object that you own, or an object owned by someone in your family perhaps, a relative or a friend’s house, and tell us the story of that object. I’m giving you two options:

1. Either pick something you know the history of, and use it to tell us something about you or your ancestors.

or 2. Pick something that you have no idea where it came from or who might previously have owned it. Put on your psychic hat and pretend that you too can read the story of the object. Be as creative as you like. (Or, if you really CAN read objects, who am I to say you can’t, then no need to pretend!)

For any newcomers to our Workshop, here’s how it works: each workshop I’ll give you a bunch of writing/blogging prompts, something to get you thinking. How you respond to them is entirely up to – there are absolutely no rules and it is open to anyone who’d like to take part. The aim is to provide you with a touch of inspiration and an opportunity for expression, to help you make some connections you might otherwise not have discovered and create something unique and personal. You can write about real-life experiences or try your hand at some fiction, express yourself through stream-of-concious writing, or have a go at at writing in some form of poetry. Be creative, be brave, be honest. Those are the only provisos.

And remember! We’re not looking for perfection here! Just have a go! The best way to get better at writing is PRACTISE. All the best writers aren’t afraid to write badly. So turn your inner-critic off for a while and just see what words come out.

Now here’s what you have to do. Decide how you’d like to respond, write your post and publish it on your blog between now and THURSDAY. On Thursday come back and use the widget that will be up to paste in the URL of your post to share. Then take some time to read some of the other entries and leave some comment love! We’re not here to critique – just to have fun and support each other in our writing experiments. So be kind please. Anyone who would like to submit something via email, or even anonymously will be more than welcome to do so. I’ll post them on the site here and include the link in Thursday’s round-up.

Enjoy x

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