It has come to this

So now I'm down to bribing myself to write. One mindmap for a short story and I can watch an episode of Once Upon A Time.
Oh yes. I'm a writer, me.

How could you?

How could you face the other side so soon?

How could you not wonder what your life could be?

How could you leave chocolate banana bread?

How could you leave an office, a city full to bursting with friends?

How could you drop such a weight of guilt onto one small set of shoulders?

How could you leave a world with such a variety of tea?

How could you leave pets that endear even as they annoy?

Ho could you be so fearless and fearful in one?

How could you go before growing a handlebar moustache?

How could you not know or not care what fallout you would leave behind?

How could you not see the crowd that would have gathered and given you reasons to live?

The silence is molten, I wish you could tell me

how could you?

Onesie McSingleton

Having been off for a week and a half, I am really, really struggling to get back into my job. To be completely honest I hate it.

On the plus side I went ahead and applied for the £10,000 MMU short story competition. I hold out absolutely no hope that I could win; I did my degree there and I know they will choose a story that is weird for weird's sake. But still I feel like more of a real writer just because I've actually tried.

In other news, not sure if it's good or bad, I've had a sort of idea for a children's story. And I mean children children, like the tiger who came to tea level. 

I don't even like children, never mind think about writing for them. But then I was wallowing in my new single life and updated my status with 'Onesie McSingleton is going to Arta tonight'. Onesie McSingleton. I love the rhythm of it and that must be why it got stuck in my head, repeating over and over until I started to wonder what kind of person would be called Onesie McSingleton.

He's a wee boy in a tartan onesie, who's favourite phrase is "I can do it all by myself". There's also a girl called Tutu (I can't decide on her surname though), and another male character as yet unnamed.

It's strange to be thinking at this level, but at the same time it's nice to know my idea cylinders are still firing.

Write-off

I'm just going to write off the last 6 months. There are very few ways they could have been worse. Two family members died, I faced possible redundancy, I had (am having?) a major Faith issue, and just yesterday my boyfriend decided it's 'best for me' if we break up. I'm calling BS on that last one. In what way is breaking my heart, making the last 18 months of my life a waste of time, and taking away the one solid-seeming thing left in my life 'best for me'?

So yes. Write-off.

On the plus side, I had a new flash of inspiration. I have no idea at the moment how big or small this plot might be as it is so new I still need to work out all the details. It is at least a short story, but definitely has the potential to be a novella/novel. Just need to get the bones written down and in order so I can really work it out and then really work on it! 

Ooh shiny

I am so easily distracted sometimes, I feel like a small child. 

Things currently distracting me from writing:
- crochet
- cross-stitch
- baking
- Thai boxing
- Downton Abbey

Feeble, I know. In the absence of inspirational flashes I really struggle to make myself write. But those flashes are few and far between at the moment so I need to keep kicking myself into gear and just keep up the writing. 

My plan is to dig out my old 'How To Be A Writer' book and do one of the exercises in it before Monday. It'll be better than nothing.

I think too much

In a fit of utter boredom I googled 'writing prompts'. There are some awful, AWFUL writing prompts out there.But that's not the point of this. The point is that one prompt stood out to me:

There was once a chance I didn't take.

It seems simple enough doesn't it. It probably is simple enough, but my brain will not let it go.

I get writing about a chance that you did take. You gave the guy your number and he called you, it blossomed into the most wonderful love ever, you got married, he cheated on you, you divorced him and moved to Brazil.  Logical.

But how do you write a whole story about a chance you didn't take? You could have given him your number, but didn't so you never saw him again...

Where's the story? This is really bugging me. It's two or three days since I did that Google search and I cannot let it go. How can I possibly write about I chance I didn't take?

Inspiration

Last Sunday I took part in the Race for Life. It was incredibly hard and made me feel sick but it was worth it because I raised over £500 for Cancer Research.

It was also worth it because it gave me an idea for a story. Not like a competition brief where I ponder over the idea for days or weeks and then plod through writing the story. A proper, flash of light, couldn't write fast enough to keep up with my imagination, solid idea.

I cannot explain how amazing it felt to be writing like that again. It makes me feel like maybe I am a writer after all.

The inspiration and story both made me cry though. Hopefully next time I get a flash it won't be so personal or painful.