KLWG February 2014

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Today was the second meeting of Kessingland Library Creative Writing Group.  Six people came along to the meeting, including myself.  Everyone had done their homework, describing a place using the 5 senses, and it was lovely to hear how people described these places with such interesting vocabulary.

*****

My Room 1999

The red glow from the lava lamp breaks through the darkness; a sliver of a glimmer of light in my empty life.  The stench of the molten wax scents the scene.  Michael Stipe’s gravel flecked voice floats around the room, singing to someone, somewhere, asking to be saved from himself again.  I push the lyrics through my lips as my heart tries to hold back the tears.  It’s so broken that liquid flows through the cracks and soaks my cheeks.  I taste the desperation and despair through every salty drop.

I make myself as comfortable as possible on my orange, inflatable chair.  Unfortunately, comfort is virtually unachievable when you’re nearly 6ft tall sitting on a seat designed for children.  I don’t care.  It’s less horrific than my existence on the other side of the closed door.  The plastic sticks to my exposed skin as if it never wants to let go.  Like a plaster being pulled from a healed cut, my skin stretches and rips itself free from the plastic grip.  It stings like a slap, but is less painful than the day I left behind at half past three.

*****

During the session I gave everyone 6 pieces of paper and asked them to write down a different word on each piece of paper, fold up the paper, and put the pieces on the table.  We all took out six pieces and wrote a story to include those words.

The words I put in were - special, stupid, purple, celery, churchyard, water

The words I took out were - buzz, tower, moon, crackers, carvery, special

Tom sat on the roof of his tower staring up at the night sky.  It was clear and the stars blinked at him, as though a light was being switched off for every wish made.  That night Tom didn't have any wishes.  They never came true anyway, no matter how many birthday candles he blew out.  The moon smiled down on him.  Sometimes it felt like it was his only friend, holding onto his secrets and his dreams, keeping them safe so that no-one else could find them.  This was a special relationship, one that could not be broken.  Tom rested his head against the old stone and closed his eyes.  He drifted off into a world he remembered so clearly, but one that was far away.  Friday night drinking binges, Saturday afternoon football games, Sunday lunchtime carvery.  But what now?  No drinking since alcohol was outlawed, no sports since the smog bombs destroyed the fields, and Sunday lunches were now rationed to a box of crackers and a smidgen of cheese.  This isn't the life.  This isn't the way things should be.  The buzz of his old life had been replaced by a drone, a monotonous silence which drowned out any sense of emotion he once knew.  Did he want to live like this anymore?  Did he want to hang around to see if it could get any worse?  Standing up, he peered over the edge of the tower at the concrete below.

*****

Homework is to think about conversation and dialogue, and how we need to think about the person speaking, if they have an accent, if they use certain vernacular.

The first part of the homework is to fill in the blank speech bubbles in the following comic strips (made here). 

And the second part is to write a scene only using dialogue.  Any description can only come through what the characters say.  There can be no 3rd person narrator.

*****

Our next meeting will be on Wednesday 26th March, 10:30am - 11:30am, at Kessingland Library.

Blogging from A to Z April 2014

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Last year I took part in the A-Z Blogging Challenge.  I found it really challenging but also really interesting.  I discovered a whole world of blogging that I didn't know existed.  Hundreds of people from all over the world were posting blogs dedicated to their interests, hobbies, jobs, lifestyle, and so much more.  I chose to write about something that I really enjoy, and that was Oulipo.

My posts on the topic can be found here.

Last year I was unemployed, so I could spend a lot of time focussing on my writing and getting my blog posts sorted.  However, this year I am working so I doubt I will have time to be so in depth with my blog posts.  This won't stop me taking part though.  I've already decided on my theme, but I won't disclose that yet.  

So basically, the challenge is to blog every day throughout April, with Sundays off for good behaviour.  All rules and regulations can be found on their website.  You have to sign up to a little linky list (you'll find me at position 466), and this is where you can find everyone else who is taking part.  

A lot of people choose a theme to write about over the month, but that's not compulsory.  All you have to do is ensure that you post every day and that each post is about something that begins with a different letter of the alphabet.

I guess I could start putting my posts together now, considering that I have a couple of months to think about it.

Will you be joining in?

KLWG January 2014

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Today was the very first meeting of Kessingland Library Creative Writing Group.  The Friends of the Library in Kessingland (FOLK) have started up a few new groups at the library (book group, art group) and I'm in charge of the writing group - eeps!  I was very pleased with the number of people who came along.  My dad came with me, and there were five other people, who all had something different to bring to the group.  I'm really looking forward to hearing what else they have up their sleeves.

I started off by introducing myself and asking everyone else to introduce themselves, explaining what they like to write.  Most hadn't written before and were hoping to come away with ideas and inspiration.

I set everyone a task to write non-stop for five minutes as a way of getting the creative juices flowing.  It doesn't matter what you write about, as long as you keep writing.  Some found the five minutes fairly short, and others found it far too long.

*****

Writing is difficult when your pen doesn't want to work as soon as it hits the paper, but a few angry attempts will usually get the ink flowing.  Oh what a lovely allegory for the writing process.  Sometimes I have to scream at my computer for a few minutes before writing in the hope that a few words appear on the blank screen but that never happens.  I often think that it might be a good idea to slam my head down on the keyboard and write a book that way.  Don't they say that a million monkeys with a million typewriters could take a million years to write the entire works of Shakespeare?  Maybe if I smashed my head on the keyboard a million times then maybe I could write a masterpiece.  Or perhaps it would just end up as the normal gobbeldigoop that I produce when I'm fully conscious.  At least the p

*****

I then explained that a good piece of advice when writing is to write what you know.  It's a good idea to use your own experiences as a basis for a story, as you can make it realistic.  You can obviously embellish the truth, but you'll always have a starting point if you write about what you know.  So our next task was to write about something that had happened to us over the past week.  It didn't matter if it was really boring or really exciting.  It was just to write about what we knew.

*****

I'm a sale shopper.  Most of the clothes in my wardrobe came from the sales.  I'm not bothered about fashion or about what's this season and what's last.  They're clothes.  As long as I like them that's all that matters.  So with the January sales I bought a big old load of new clothes, and saved over £90 in the process.  One thing I bought was a pair of dungarees.  Now I know that dungarees are only worn by pregnant women or three year old children, and I also know that I'm not pregnant, nor am I three.  But I added them to my online shopping basket nonetheless.  When they arrived I wasn't sure, but I've adopted the mantra of 'New Year, New Me'.  I'm taking a more positive outlook on life and trying not to worry about what other people think.  It's easier said than done, but it's about time that I was happy.  So I put on these dungarees and I loved them.  They are so comfortable.  But I'd forgotten what a pain they are when you need to go to the toilet.  I remember when I was little, nearly wetting myself while my mum tried to unclip the straps from the body of the dungarees.  I'd be hopping from one foot to the other while she fiddled and faffed with the metal hooks and buttons.  And this fiddling and faffing transpires into adulthood.  I was at work and I needed a wee.  I managed to tangle myself up inside my cardigan with straps running down my sleeves.  One false move and I would be wearing a straight-jacket.  Going for the wee didn't cause any problems, but trying to get myself dressed afterwards was a bit of a feat.

*****

Homework for next time is to write up to 500 words about a place using all five senses.  The next meeting will be held on Wednesday 26th February, 10:30-11:30 am.

Eat, Sleep, Write, Retreat

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I've never been on a writing retreat, although I know people who have been and they've thoroughly enjoyed it.  I would like to go on an organised retreat, where you stay in a house or hotel with other writers who want to get away from the distractions of life to write in comfort.  You are pretty much looked after and taken care of so that you can focus on writing.  On some retreats they have 'classes' where you can do writing activities to inspire you (but these are not compulsory) and you can meet with others to share your work in progress.

One day I would like to go on one of these retreats, but last week I undertook my own retreat.  I had a bit of a rubbish end to last year and wanted to get away for a bit, but not too far away.  I found a lovely pet-friendly, self-catering holiday home and took my dog and my laptop away for a week.

We stayed in a converted barn, about 90 minutes' drive away from where I live.  It was absolutely beautiful.  The pictures on the website (Courtyard Barns) are lovely, but they don't do justice to the actual place.  And neither do my pictures, but here's a little sneak peek at where we stayed.

There were two bedrooms, an en-suite shower room, a separate bathroom, a kitchen/dining room, and a huge living room, as well as an enclosed area at the front for Lily (my dog) to play in without her running out into the road.  Lily is a bit of a nervous dog and she doesn't like change, but she made herself at home in no time!

Being in the countryside, we found some nice (if not extremely) muddy walks around the fields.  It was so nice being away from everything.  I live in a village and we don't have much here, but there was absolutely nothing there.  A few houses dotted along the road, but if you wanted to go to a shop you had to get in your car.

The main purpose of this trip was to get away for a while so that I could sit and write without having to go to work or to the gym or to the shops.  I wanted some time on my own (with my dog, of course), where I didn't have to see people or speak to people.  It's not that I'm unsociable, but sometimes I do like to be on my own.

So I set my laptop up on the coffee table in the living room, and pretty much didn't leave that spot for the whole week.  It was great.  I managed to edit a book I've been working on for a couple of years.  I'm just going to give it to my editors (otherwise known as my parents) to have one last look over, and then it will be done.  I do have to finish the introduction and afterword though, but that shouldn't take me too long.  I also started writing a new book; something that has been floating around in my head for a while.  I managed to write just over 6,000 words over two days, which as a friend pointed out is more than one of our undergraduate essays.  It used to take me a month to write a 3,000 word essay, and here I am writing double that in two days.

It's great when inspiration hits and you just can't stop writing.  Obviously, it's far from perfect but there are words on the paper and I can edit them at a later date.  I feel like I accomplished so much being away from 'real life' for a while.  I wasn't completely cut off; I had access to the wi-fi and there was a television in the barn, so I did have a couple of distractions.  I would definitely have done more work without the television, and there is no doubt that I would have done a million times more work if it wasn't for Facebook.  But I don't want to be cut off from everything.  I know I grew up without the internet, and for the majority of my childhood we only had four television channels, but I'm afraid technology is now such a huge part of my life I don't think I could go cold turkey!

So if you're a writer (or any sort of artist), I really would advise going away every now and then to throw yourself into your work.  Even if you live along, or you don't have to go out to work.  Sometimes a change in scenery can be great for our creativity.  We start to look at things differently because we are looking at different things.  

Although I did start to miss home and my own bed by the end of the week, I really didn't want to leave.  I wanted to stay and write, and wrap myself up in a little world of words.  But now I'm home, and I have to start thinking about getting back into my routine of work and gym and shopping, and grabbing time to write in between.

LLWG - December

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I know, I know, I really have been slacking.  These past few months have been a bit all over the place, but I think I'm back on track so I will be posting about the writing group again.

We met on Tuesday 10th December, and we had a pretty full group.  We keep losing people and gaining others, but it's great to see that interest in the group is still so high.

Homework from last session was to write something about memories.  I don't normally write things this personal, but after a month with heightened emotions, this kind of came spilling out.

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I remember when, I remember when I lost my mind.  Hang on.  Wait.  No.  That’s not how this story begins.  That’s the start of a Gnarls Barkley song.  It is, however, how this story ends.  But we will get to that bit in due course.

I remember being in love.  It has only happened once.  I was 19 years old.  Maybe you think that was quite young to be in love, but you tell that to our grandparents who got married in their late teens or early twenties, and never got divorced.  Nothing has come close to that feeling since.  And whenever I think about it, I fall headfirst into the age old question, whether it is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.  I can’t answer that now.  Maybe things will become clearer in time.

Some of you are lucky to be in love now.  I don’t resent you at all.  I’m extremely jealous, but I don’t begrudge it.  We all deserve to love and be loved.

I remember the day I realised I was in love.  I can’t remember the exact date but the scene plays over and over in my head.  I’d woken up first.  This is something to definitely make note of, as I never wake up first.  Even if I was the last person on earth, I wouldn’t wake up first.  I like my sleep.  It takes a lot to stop me sleeping.  So I’d woken up first and I turned over to see him lying on his side, his head heavy on the pillow.  I watched him sleep.  Not in a weird stalker kind of way; more in a ‘I’ve woken up early and I’ve got nothing better to do’ kind of way.  His hair was wild, which wasn’t really out of the ordinary as his locks were always reasonably unkempt.  He still suffered with bed-head though.  His eyelashes were crusty with sleep, and he had a little bit of dried dribble in the corner of his mouth.  He looked far from his best.  But I looked at him.  I looked at the way parts of his face flickered and contorted, and realised that if he can look this bad and I still want to be with him, it must be love.  It was a bit of an epiphany moment; I’d said ‘I love you’ but it wasn’t until then that I really felt it.  It was one of those ‘the world could end right now and I will die at my absolute peak of happiness’ moments.

I remember being romanced and wooed and courted.  I remember feeling comfortable and safe and connected.  I remember feeling special and treasured.  I remember feeling excited and nervous.  And above all, I remember making someone else feel that way.

In no way am I looking at my relationship through rose tinted glasses.  It wasn’t perfect.  We irritated each other and we fought (not physically I hasten to add), but we always worked it out and got over it.  Well, always, until the last time.  And it is here that I remember when, I remember when I lost my mind.  And I lost my love.

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We had a couple of writing tasks.  The first was - what would you do if you were Santa?

If I was Santa I would buy everyone in the world a dictionary, and employ a select team of grammarians to test people before they were allowed to post anything on facebook.  This would reduce unemployment and also keep stupid people off the internet.

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The second task was to write about something happening to a Father Christmas in a department store or a snowman.

There he is.  Look at him, standing there all smug, that coaly black smile, grinning.  I bet he thinks he's so great, all high and mighty like he's the king of the garden.  'Oooh, look at me, I don't get cold in the snow because I'm made of snow.  I'm so great.'  Well actually, no you're not so great.  In fact you're rubbish.  You're an overgrown popsicle.  Call yourself a man.  You haven't even got any legs or feet.  You've just got a really fat body.

Yeah, yeah?  What are you staring at?  You want to start something?  Any time!  Any.  Time.

(WALKIES!)

Ha!  You're in for it now.  Don't you try and run.  Oh, I forgot, you can't, you legless wonder.  Here I come, ready or not.  Now, which leg should I cock?  Aah, that's better.

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Our next meeting will be on Tuesday 14th January 2014, 7-9pm, in the Navigator Room.  Our homework for next session to write something based on 'new beginnings'.

LLTW - December

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I have to apologise for not posting about my teen writing group.  It is still going; I've just had a hectic few months and time has escaped me.  But I will find time from now on.

So we met on Monday 9th December, and I had two of my regular girls and a new girl.

I've stopped setting homework as they weren't doing it.  They have a lot of homework from school and college so I don't really want to add extra pressure.

As it's coming up to Christmas, I thought we would try our hands at writing a Christmas song.  I'm not particularly musical myself, but I managed to scribble down some lyrics.  I don't have a tune for them - maybe someone could help me out with that.

Oh, and it's untitled.

Wrap yourself up inside of your coat

And pull your hat down on your head

Or stay inside where it's nice and warm

And snuggle up cosy in your comfortable bed

It's winter, it's cold

Ice drips from your nose

But that's how it goes

When it's nearly Christmas

Stock up your cupboards with mountains of food

And eat it all until your gut explodes

Sitting on the sofa, watching specials on the tells

Hibernating while the gritters blanket the roads

It's winter, it's cold

Ice drips from your nose

But that's how it goes

When it's nearly Christmas

Do your shopping online to escape the queues

And have your gifts delivered to your door

Spend your evenings in your pyjamas

Wrapping presents, sprawled out on the floor

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That's as far as I got.  Perhaps I shouldn't give up my day job!

Anyway, our next meeting will be on Monday 13th January 2014, 5-6pm in the library cafe.  If you're interested in coming or you'd like some more information you can e-mail me at rebeccah.giltrow@suffolklibraries.co.uk   

College Writers

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Today I went to a local college to speak to the writing group there.  I had been asked to go along to talk about writing and publishing.

I was a bit nervous about doing it as I didn't know how I would be received.  But thankfully I wasn't booed out of the building.  There were eight people in the group but they were all very quiet.  I understand that being involved in any of the arts can be daunting.  You produce something but you don't want to share it because it's like you're baring your soul, and you don't want to hear criticism.  

We spent some time discussing what 'creative writing' is, and I was pleased to hear their responses.  They see it as a form of expression and escapism.  We also discussed what types of writing constitute 'creative writing', and one girl answered with 'everything' - the answer I wanted to hear.  So many people think creative writing is limited to fiction stories and poetry, but it stretches a lot further than that.  People seem to forget journalism, essays, travel writing, song lyrics, letters, diary entries (and so much more).  However, the teens today were aware of these styles, although I'm not sure how many they write.

We also spoke a bit about publishing, and as young, new writers they hadn't really thought about it.  One person asked about getting an agent, and other asked about self/e-publishing.  Although I would love to have an agent, it's not easy.  I explained about sending pieces off and getting rejections, which can be really disappointing, but it is worth doing as you never know what will happen.  But if you do want your work out there, self/e-publishing is the way to go.  It gets your name known and you never know who might find out about you.  As an author it's so important to promote and publicise yourself and your work however you can.

We did a couple of five minute writing activities just to get their creativity flowing.  They seemed to enjoy them - well I hope they did.  They weren't very verbal, but that will come with time.

I really enjoyed the session, and even though I would have liked it if they had been a bit more chatty, it was great to see so many people there who were receptive to what I was saying and seemed as though they really enjoyed writing and wanted to take it further than a hobby (a couple of them have started to write novels).