Well it has been a while. Not since I wrote a blog, I did that yesterday, but since I wrote a blog that focused on why Writing in Shadows was created in the first place. I started this blog several years ago to write about the process of writing. Back then, as a young whipper-snapper of 40, I had dreams of writing a novel. Maybe a movie. Perhaps a series. Definitely more than a shopping list.
I have to go on record in saying 2016 has been a pretty dismal year. On a world scale we’ve got wars and terrorism all over the place. On a personal scale I’ve been made redundant (again) and the depression I’ve been dealing with seems to be gaining ground on me lately. Frankly the sooner it’s over, the better.
I wrote this short story last year in a fit of creativity. I originally submitted it to a competition but it wasn’t right for them. Having read some of the winners pieces I can see why. It was a very different path taken to the winners and those who placed. I’m considering submitting another attempt this year. But in the meantime I have a short 600-odd word story, so I thought I’d put it up here. I hope you enjoy it, and if you do leave a comment. Hell, even if you don’t leave a comment. Constructive feedback is always welcome.
Yesterday I wrote about my “practice novel”, the next piece of writing I’m going to undertake to give myself something to practice on. To learn new techniques, to write only for the joy of telling the story and not worrying about publishing deals or publishing at all. To just write and learn and have some fun.
There is a great myth in my family – and I think in the families of many – that in order for something to be achieved it needs to be done at the right moment. The perfect moment just waiting to be tapped into and if, just if, you hit the right perfect moment everything will come up roses, or at least pansies, never carnations though. They’re funeral flowers.
I’ve been busy since we last spoke. Not in a “get in there, get things done and have a wonderful holiday by the beach,” kind of way, but in a “it seems like nothing is happening, but I know it is, so suck it,” kind of way.
The other day I made the comment in my blog – and during a telephone conversation – that it’s next to impossible to drown your inner demons when the bastards have learnt how to swim. It got me thinking on ways to deal with your inner problems in healthier and – in the long term – sustainable way than reaching for a shelf of wine every time the shit hits the fan.
Life brings many adventures along the way. Credit card debt, broken hearts, misplaced wallets, keys and the never ending adventure of “if I put 6 socks in the washing machine, why do I only ever find 5 when the load is done?”
Here’s a tip for the non-writers out there. Don’t ask a writer when they will be “finished” on their novel. Also, don’t ask them when they’re going to start making money and finally be a “proper” writer.
In February this year I began a 6 month novel writing course held at the Australian Writers’ Centre. The course facilitator is Award Winning Australian novelist Pamela Freeman. When I first signed up, I entertained myself by imaging that finished novel sitting in my hands in August, the entirety of the Australian publishing industry bashing down my door to sign me up.