money | Sleep is for the Weak

Writing Workshop – The girl and the jam jars

Posted by Josie on Oct 24, 2011 in Creative Writing, Writing, Writing Workshop | 7 comments

She sat in front of two jam jars, one smelling faintly of pickled onions and the other so old she couldn’t even remember what had been in it. With looped lines she wrote two labels and stuck them on, one on each: Missing and Found. And then she sat with the pen in the end of her mouth and thought hard.

With a sigh, it was easy to write the first one, her hand moving to fetch a slip of paper she had cut, writing in careful, neat capital letters, folding the paper to drop it into the Missing jar. Best to get that one out the way, and no need to dwell, was there really. Those thoughts had been thought before. She could bury it under other things missing, to help forget about it for a while. And after all, she doubted that particular aspect of her life would be missing for that long. “You’re just in there temporarily, okay?” she said aloud, reaching for another slip of paper. Right, what else was missing? She prodded the word in her head, but found it unbudging. Words sometimes like to take on the character of resistant old toads, she had found, so she shrugged, fair enough, we’ll come back to that one then.

All Change

Posted by Josie on Sep 12, 2010 in Kai, Me, Save the Children | 22 comments

Change seems to be a theme here lately. Maybe it’s something in the wind. Or maybe by pushing for it, I ended up drawing it to me too. Who knows.

It’s been a strange week since I got home. Full of excitement and busyness. ITN news appearances and press interviews and radio broadcasts and an impending trip on Thursday to meet the Deputy Prime Minister, deeply satisfying and exhilarating, feeling like the world is waking up to our message. I am so glad of it. The only way I can bear to think about some of the people we left behind in Bangladesh, wondering if some of the sick children we met are still alive, wondering how much the smiling faces I still remember so, so vividly have had to eat today, the only way I can think about them is by carrying alongside them the thought that we are here trying to change their reality, if only a little bit. We are. It’s not guilt, coming home, that drives me. It’s a kind of dull anger. A restless one. It’s quite comforting actually. I’m glad it’s there.

But as much as I have wanted to absorb myself in memories, in processing experiences and riding this media wave, confusingly and exhaustingly my ‘other’ life has been busy clamouring at my heels. Money and choices and a toddler going through another intense, angry, demanding, frustrated phase, with communication difficulties becoming more and more challenging. The biggest change in Kai while I was away was that he learnt, finally, at the grand old age of 26 months to say ‘No’. And ironically that is all I’ve heard since I’ve got home… “NO mama. NO”. Those two words the only comprehensible words in a long, endless tirade of shouting, screaming gibberish. I don’t know if it’s cause he’s missed me more than we thought, or if it’s just a phase, or if he’s picking up on what is quite a considerably stressful situation at home, but boy, that boy is ANGRY.

Anyway. It’s been tough. Tough to find the head-space needed to deal with the force of change that hit this week.

To start with it looks like Ant is going to be made redundant next week, and so we’re bracing ourselves for the sudden tightening of already-tight belts and a frantic job hunt. It’s a wait and see on that one, but not looking good to be honest.

And that, coupled with an already fraught financial and home situation, made me make the decision to pull out of my Art degree that was due to start next week and deferring it for another year.

I am devastated, despite the fact I know it was the right thing to do. Too many memories flooding back of the year I had to turn down my last university place many years ago when I fell ill. Too many false starts. It’s hard to let go of the one plan that was giving my life some stability.

But it WAS the right thing to do. And financial considerations aside, there were other reasons for pulling out.

Something is happening to me. I am being pulled somewhere. It is away from the indulgence of art school for now and into the world of writing, writing for a PURPOSE, of words that have the power to change, perhaps. It’s steeped in some of the heat of the Bangladesh countryside and fed by some of its green, thick waters. It’s something to do with writing and potential and people finally starting to sit up and take notice of me and what I could do, maybe, if I was given half a chance, after a life time of being invisible. And it’s something to do with wanting to make something meaningful happen, that makes the most of the experiences I am being given, and who I am.

So it’s a sad change. A scary change. One of letting go of hard things and of much uncertainty.

But, when the fatigue of the past few weeks lifts enough for me to get a bit of a sense of where I’m standing, I realise it’s a good change too. A hopeful one. A portentous one.

So here I am. A new beginning. I’m about to launch myself into the pretty daunting task of finding some paid writing work and building some sort of career from the disparate strands of achievement and interest and contacts I have gathered over the last few months.

I guess we’ll see what happens.

For now, though, I sleep. Lots.

Night night.

Breaking into Freelance Writing

Posted by Josie on Nov 23, 2009 in Writing | 21 comments

For a while now I’ve been wondering whether there was a way I could start making some money from my writing talents attempts . Money is, quite frankly, in rather short supply and a little extra here and there would come in very handy. It was a very definite decision of ours that I would spend the first couple of years of Kai’s life at home with him while Ant went out to work, and one I am happy we made, but it is tough. Very tough.

Writing is what I love. It’s what I think about most of the time. It’s the thing that feels the most natural to me; the most right. When I am writing I finally feel like I’ve found my calling and my place in the world, that I have discovered my purpose. It’s exhilarating, addictive, and terrifying in that it seems to come with so much emotional investment. It’s only natural that I would want something I love so much to be able to earn me a living.

Increasingly I’m beginning to think that freelance journalism ISN’T for me: I don’t know whether I’ve got what it takes and fiction is my real dream, and where, I think, my particular skills lie, or, at least, I hope they will once I’ve practised a bit more.

But when lovely Linda from ‘You’ve Got You Hands Full’ contacted me telling me about a new column she was running on her blog offering freelance writing tips and asking if I had any questions to start the ball rolling, I immediately thought of about half a dozen. Because I know that there are lots of you that ARE keen to break in to freelance writing and that, like me, you find the whole field a little overwhelming and wouldn’t know where to start.

Linda has provided a wonderful advice-filled post in response to my (many) questions that offers a great insight into anyone thinking of trying to get some paid writing work. From Linda’s response it seems like the opportunities ARE out there, but only if you have the right skills to offer and know how to market yourself.

I’ll be honest, the more I learn about the freelance writing market, the smaller and more out of my depth I feel. I’m not sure I’m the kind of writer that would be good at networking, at selling yourself, at finding an angle. And that makes me wonder what kind of writer I am, or if, in fact, I am any kind of writer at all.

But these are my issues, not yours, and you may feel braver and more confident about making your forays into the field.

I’d really recommend you give Linda’s post a read and check out the advice she offers – as someone with a lot of experience in the field she is definitely a voice worth listening to.