How a wellbeing weekend inspired me

You may have noticed that this place has been a tad quiet for a while. Instead I've been focusing on the day job and enjoying life. But mostly it's been because I decided to stop stressing myself out with trying to do things I thought I should be doing when I didn't really want to. The result has been more writing just for me, experimenting and playing with form and story. Recent world events however have pushed me to want to start blogging again in a meaningful way but not so it feels like a burden. I wasn't really sure how to do that but this past weekend I think I got my answer when I took part in a wellbeing weekend.

What is a wellbeing weekend? In this case it is a friend's idea that she wanted to test run. I won't go into too much detail as she is still in the process of building it up as a business but it involves using creative activities to express yourself and to consider your own "wellbeing". I've been doing mindfulness activities for a while so it wasn't entirely unknown but it did bring home to me that I have been neglecting the creative expression in my life by not publishing anything for so long. It's all well and good creating things for yourself, but if you never share them then they remain nothing more than an idea. If someone has a genius thought that could change the world is it really so genius if no one knows about it?

I've decided to return to my blogging but in a more constructive and conscious way. Rather than just write about things as they happen I'm creating a "content plan", so I can think about the things I want to write about and prep them in advance. I currently have about eight posts lurking in the depths of Blogger that I never published in the end - all were sudden ideas, without a plan and just didn't feel right for this place. So the other step I'm taking is separating my political/current affairs writing out from this blog and into my Medium space. That way I can keep this area to just writing, books, personal and productivity related posts and my fiery feelings about the world can be filtered into a more journalistic area. Expect a lot of cross over in my stories though...

If you have an opportunity to go to a type of wellbeing weekend I highly recommend it. Sure, you may be uncomfortable with group activities (I know I am) but that in itself is a good thing to overcome and challenge. You will likely learn things about yourself you didn't know in the process and most importantly will get to meet a bunch of great people, with their own inspiring stories to tell. What more could any would-be-writer ask for?

Still trucking on

Once again life has been getting ahead of me. My plans to write and exercise more have not exactly gone to plan. But I find focusing on the plus side of things is better than dwelling on the bad, so a quick update on the last month or so:

• I had a wonderful holiday in Tenerife; ten days and nights of sun, good food and good drink.
• I've read some great books lately, including the final Discworld novel Terry Pratchett ever wrote. *sob*
• I'm now working out four days in a row, with three days off between. Definitely getting stronger!
• My writing has been slow but I've finished a couple of drafts of a time travel story. Still not sure if it's any good or not, but it continues to be a work in progress.
• I've been getting practise in setting up a website from scratch with Wordpress.
• I have begun to tentatively write up ideas and details of a novel that has been rumbling around in my head for over a year.

Despite feeling like I'm not achieving much I've actually been doing a lot of things. It's funny how, until you write down what you've been doing, life can feel like it's slipping by. There's probably some kernel of wisdom there. One thing I haven't been keeping up with is my Passion Planner, which was always useful in keeping me grounded and directed. I'm going to make an effort to get used to updating it again, as the weekly look backs are really useful in seeing where you've not made the best use of your time as well as what your achievements were.

I'm still hopeful I can get a story or two published this year, if I keep plugging away at the words. At the very least I hope to get a previously published short released on Kindle by 2017 and a novel largely plotted out. Of course my day job may have other ideas...

Watch this space!

All Hail Macbeth

In an effort to escape the never ending fustercluck that is British politics, I finally got round to watching Macbeth (2015) this weekend, starring Michael Fassbender and Marion Cotillard. First off I have to say it astounded me; beautiful, atmospheric and experimental, it's everything I want from Shakespeare. The performances were wonderful and it was great hearing the bard's words in not-too-shabby Scottish accents (Cotillard wisely chose to not try too hard). But it did not take me away from the dire situation my country has put itself in. Rather, it only amplified it.

Macbeth is predominantly about what unfettered ambition will do to a person. It explores how an honourable man can be twisted to commit terrible deeds by the words of others. It also shows the cost of greed to those caught in its wake. Like so many Shakespeare stories, it's about the human condition. At no point are we given clean answers on whether people are inherently good and become corrupted, or whether humanity is far more evil than it is good. All of this seems particularly apt at this moment in time.

In the last few months, and particularly the last few weeks, the UK has revealed the depths of people's ambitions and how they allow that to blind them to reality or consequence. For those arguing for Remain there was a complacency and arrogance, unwilling to look hard into the issues being raised by those in long-abandoned areas of England and Wales. On the Leave side we saw half-truths and outright lies become a major part of their campaign, with little to no thought of what all the consequences could be. In the last few weeks we've seen Labour tear itself apart, with short-sighted MPs on one side and an intransigent leader on the other. The Conservatives have at least managed to sort out their leadership contest in record time but have done so in a way that will force many Conservative party members to reconsider their allegiances. For all the claims that we're leaving the EU to get away from an undemocratic system, it's impossible to ignore that we will have a Prime Minister unelected by either the party or the public.

Fiction often gives a better lens through which to examine these things. I'll be seeing Macbeth again at the end of August, live at the Globe Theatre, and look forward to seeing how current events once again slot into its framework. In the play no one really wins - the price paid is too steep to ever make it feel like a victory. It's a strange sort of comfort to know that things don't change that much, even over centuries. They worked it out, one way or another, and so shall we. 

Day One of a New Reality

The train, normally filled with chattering commuters, was practically silent. All heads bowed in abjection, smart phone screens a glow. Fingers swipe in search of answers but only find more questions. Today is the day the United Kingdom left Europe.

Except it isn't. Yet. We're still in the EU and will be until someone decides to issue Article 50 and begin the two year process for extracting the UK from the EU, after 43 years inside it. My personal feelings are best summed up in one word: devastated. I woke up this morning in a country that I had previously suspected was becoming increasingly ignorant, intolerant, reactionary and angry; a boil fit to burst. It turns out my fears were well-founded and I am now in a country I no longer relate to or want to stay in.

I have studied and read many books, and watched many films, about countries that reached a tipping point. The journey from that initial point of falling off the edge until eventually arriving on steady ground has never been smooth and has often been catastrophic. I want to believe that my country will weather the storm and come out the better for it. Then I see the likely figureheads at the helm and I despair.

For those who voted Leave: I sincerely hope you're right. I genuinely want you to be correct in your assertions that our country will be better off outside of the EU, that it won't all collapse around our ears, that the far-right will not see a resurgence in power across Europe because of this, that my non-British/non-white friends will be fine. But I fear that you have been sold down the river with the rest of us by men more interested in their own ambitions than what's in the interest of the citizens not just of the UK but of the whole world. Time will tell.

For those who voted Remain: I feel your pain, your worry, that constant sick feeling in the pit of your gut. I feel the urge to scream "What have you done!" to 52% of the voters and to hope that they suffer as a result. But throughout the campaign the thing I noticed amongst all my fellow Remainers was a patience and tolerance for opposing views. Not across the board (there are bad nuts in every squirrel hoard) but generally we were the ones keeping calm heads and using facts and reason to make our point. That's likely why we lost. I will stay on that course now and say no to hate. Jo Cox did not die for us to succumb to those baser emotions. And in her memory I will soldier on, while carefully considering my own options.

Peace to you all.

Rejecting Hate

There are times when it's hard to hold to hope, to see the "silver-lining". On a personal front I was in Scotland on Monday for the funeral of my aunt. Next week I'll be at a funeral for a friend of my parents, whose children are like my surrogate siblings. It is feeling very much like the adults I grew up with, those giants who led the way, are one by one vanishing from my life. This is a normal and expected stage in life, but no easier for it.

Then there's current events. The horrendous slaughter of LGBTQ people in Orlando, just having normal Saturday night fun. The rise of Drumph and his vile rhetoric. The increasingly vicious and divided EU Referendum campaign here in the United Kingdom. And then, like some hideous blood smeared cherry on this cake of hate, MP Jo Cox assassinated in the street, just outside her surgery in Birstall.

We truly are living in dark times. The war in Syria, the rise of the perverted ISIS, the ongoing Russian occupation of Crimea... My history studies specialised in Nazi Germany and the Cold War. It's hard not to see the horrifying echoes.

Finding positives at times like this is a challenge. Yet we must. When my father died it seemed like there would be no light again. But one person after another, through a kind word or a gesture of compassion, showed me there is always hope. There is always goodness and decency.

I reject despair. I reject hate. There are still wonderful people in this world of ours and I believe we can all overcome the shadows around us. Because we are all one human family; we may fight, we may argue but ultimately we will come together in trying times. Or, as MP Cox said herself;

"While we celebrate our diversity, what surprises me time and time again as I travel around the constituency is that we are far more united and have far more in common with each other than things that divide us."

RIP Jo Cox

Hash Tag Am Writing

I am very much #amwriting, as the twitterverse would put it, but I realise it's been a while since I wrote about my writing. So the latest developments are:

• I completed a new horror/fantasy short story called "The Serpent's Psyche". It went out on submission last week but was declined by the market I sent it to. Then I read it again and thought "Jesus, no wonder - this sucks." If even I can't believe in my own story then how can I expect someone else to? So it's back to the wordshop for a new draft.
• A new science fiction short story is in the works. It is in very early draft stage but the lessons from "The Serpent's Psyche" will hopefully make this a smoother writing process (Tip: try to create a name for your story before you get to the final draft, kids - it's amazing how much the title can change the whole damn thing). And no, this particular science fiction story does not have a name... yet!
• I re-read my previously published short story, "A Fair Price" and was pleased to find it ain't half bad. Plans are afoot to get it turned into a very short eBook...

I'm pleased with the progress I've made this year after defining goals and tracking myself against them. It all sounds very work-like but I promise it's been a lot of fun. I have rediscovered though how hellish the editing process is; to that end I bought myself "Self-Editing for Fiction Writers". It is amazing and has already helped with the rewrite process for "The Serpent's Psyche". Highly recommended if you too are struggling in a mire of words that don't seem to be any good or doing what you want them to.

Here's to further flowing narratives and engaging dialogues - hopefully my future bit of writing news will be even more exciting.

Whispersync Will Change Your (Book) Life

Obviously I’m a massive reader but last year I really struggled to get through many books. Instead I was watching TV shows on my commute and, as it turns out, that’s the only time I really have for reading. So I set myself a goal of reading more books this year and one of the things I’m using to achieve it is audiobooks.

The only time I’ve used audiobooks in the past was when I was a kid and I listened to Roald Dahl stories on cassette during long car journeys. I remember loving the atmosphere and getting to hear the characters was amazing to my young mind. It also meant I could get on with other important things at the same time, like playing Sonic the Hedgehog on my GameGear.

Finding Balance

A very strange thing has been happening these last few months. Something that I can honestly say has never happened before; my day job and life no longer feel like two distinct, separate entities. I have, somehow, created a congruity between the two that has always eluded me.

For as long as I can remember I've always felt a division between what I do for work and my "real" life. In fact even school felt the same way, with time spent in the classroom distinct and separate from my life. That stopped for a time when I was at University but started up again as soon as I started working for a living. Every hour spent at work was an hour deprived from me, an hour where I couldn't focus on my "real" life, preventing me from the things I really wanted. It was hard and ultimately resulted in working for the weekend, for the time you do have to yourself and on your own terms.

I suspect a lot of, even most, people live like this. It's normal for there to be a distinction between "what you do" and "what you want to be". Or at least, it was normal for me - until now.

I've been doing a lot of self-inspection this year, really working out what I want from my day job, where I want it to go. That in turn led me to do the same with my own writing. And I recognised that the lack of progress in both of these zones of my life was down to me not doing two things:

    a) Planning (realistically)
    b) Pushing (myself and others to get things in motion)

So in March I got myself a Passion Planner. I'd learned about them over a year previously but had done nothing about it, putting it off and saying to myself I didn't really need something like that. I was wrong - my Passion Planner forced me to re-assess what I really wanted (something I'd done before a few years ago but hadn't moved forward with) and forced me to see what I was going to have to prioritise and what I'd have to let go of. But I did something I don't think I'd have done in earlier years; I included my day job in my Passion Planner. Suddenly I could see how my day job could help me get the skills I needed for my writing goals and how the writing could in turn help me in my day job. Suddenly the two things were not in competition, they were allies that were going to get me where I wanted to be.

I don't know if this works for everyone. Some day jobs are likely too monotonous or restrictive to offer much in the way of personal development. But I've definitely had a revelation and it's resulted in me prioritising my fiction writing by doing it before work three times a week and setting up a working backward plan for my writing projects (something I have to do in my day job as standard). It also made me include my fitness goals into my life so now I visit the gym in the morning twice a week and have a once a week session with a Personal Trainer (who happens to be my boyfriend, but still). It requires some sacrifices, like getting up earlier, staying at work later, but so far it seems to be working. But the most important part, to me, is that I no longer feel like I'm being pulled in different directions, or being forced to make a choice I don't want to make. And maybe, just maybe, this will be the year I can look back and say "this is when it started" when I look back at a writing career. Dreams are where achievements start after all.

Star Wars, Pressure and Thoughts

Today has been a good day - I got to see Star Wars: A Force Awakens and despite my massive misgivings about the continuation of the saga I loved it. Can't claim it's perfect but it comes close enough for me. Fear not - no spoilers here. But if you haven't seen it and you loved A New Hope, you have to watch this one; you're going to love it.

I'm in the process of clearing out the many emails I have as I'm terrible at keeping up with them. This has resulted in a present I was buying not being sent, as apparently I had an invoice sent to me a week ago which I didn't see. Why businesses can't just take the money when I've given them my Paypal details I don't know, but here we are; one pleading email of "please charge me again, I promise I'll pay this time" and now waiting for a response. Fingers and toes are crossed.

One email that got my attention was from Goodreads, "Your year in books". It listed how many books I've read, how many I challenged myself to read, how many I added to my "To Read" pile... essentially a lot of numbers that told me I've not been particularly productive this year. That got me to thinking, Why do we put this pressure on ourselves?  It makes sense for companies to bombard us with messages and what better way to prompt someone to interact with their product then setting goals, otherwise known as "gamification". But why do we so willingly play? In my case I think it's a fear of missing out, of not doing enough in my life and just turning into a couch potato mindlessly consuming and never creating. We see so many inspirational stories of people who turned their life around through hard work and dedication, so many examples of how good it could be if we only put a bit of effort in. In reality though "effort" can often translate into burning out or being unhappy. Spending hours on something that you don't really enjoy all in the hope of a pay off at the end, whether that's setting up a small business, or trying to read your way through a Colossus sized pile of books.

This is not me saying it's not worth it; it is. Of equal importance though is your sanity - I've been much happier since I put the brakes on my writing and instead focused on doing little things one at a time or one big thing over a period of time, rather than everything plus day job, plus reading, plus games, plus keeping up with TV shows... There's only so much the brain can cope with. So this year coming will be my year of focus on only one thing at a time, with no guilt if I change my focus to relax or to learn or to grow in other ways. Because while there are many paths to success, you can't walk all of them at once. Sometimes you've just got to stick to the one your own and not worry about what you might be missing.

Happy Winter Solstice!

USA Bound

Work are sending me off to Seattle for the week - I finally get to see the mothership. Sunday has been spent fighting with my hand luggage to make sure it's within the measly 10kg the airline allows. Turns out my work laptop and charger weigh half of that so I can safely say I did not enjoy this game of 4D Tetris. Somehow it all came together and I'm now in the "what have I forgotten" phase.

I've never had a chance to go to the original head office until now. We're kind of big on the whole "frugality" thing and so far I've not had a good reason to go. But at last I get to see where it all began. I also get to see the city I heard about growing up watching Frasier. Though I can't promise I'll partake of the (in)famous coffee - maybe a hot chocolate instead.

The result of my minimalist packing has also been getting some apps on my phone to make blogging and writing easier. This post is entirely written on my iPhone - an experiment to see if I can get more writing practise by removing the need for a computer of any kind. I predict there may be an exponential rise in typos... But it should make it easier to write updates and I'm even going to give writing stories a go, though the thumb typing will either give me arthritis or drive me crazy. Only time will tell. The main point is that I'm trying to stop letting little things get in the way of dreams - it's so easy for mini excuses to pile up and blockade progress. So instead I'm going to remove those little problems one at a time, starting with the whole "but I don't have a laptop to write on" or "my laptop's too heavy to take everywhere". 

Now I just have to hope I get time away from work to actually do the thumb typing. No doubt the jet lag will help with that...

Forcing the Muse

Three weeks since returning from my holiday, I'm making myself post something as it's safe to say the writing bug has not been with me lately. It's not that I don't want to write but I'm finding the words are stuck; I need a plumber to remove the blockage with one of those amusingly shaped plungers. Though I have just realised how much I like the word "plunger".

To combat the lack of words I've decided I need to approach this like I do going to the gym; make myself do it at set times, on set days, no matter how I feel. When exercise is the activity this often leads to a lot of internal whinging and negotiation with my inner self; bargains are proposed and regrettably rejected. Wails of "but I can't" are met with "but you must". So far I haven't had a routine for the writing to allow this fun dialogue to happen in my head, but here we are. Now I have two activities in which to explore the depths of my insanity.

I tried to do a bit of writing on holiday but was never that optimistic it would lead to much. In Magaluf there are lots of distractions of the sun, pool, drinks and dancing variety. And as it turned out food poisoning, when me and my man made the mistake of having the hotel's freshly cooked omelettes. I may never eat an omelette again. Couple with a decided lack of sun, grumpy neighbours, and a gym that was more a death trap then a work out area, it wasn't the smoothest of holidays, but it was still fun.

Another aid to writing I'm trying is working my way through Ursula K. Le Guin's "Steering the Craft - A 21st-Century Guide to Sailing the Sea of Story". It's a short book on writing, with exercises to do at the end of each chapter, and I plan to post my attempts here. Alongside this I've set out my writing goals for the next three months, broken down into the actual pieces I want to have finished in that time and what should be in progress. Waiting for inspiration just isn't working, so a checklist will have to do. I'm even getting up earlier with the express purpose of writing something everyday, before I do anything else. I really like my sleep, so this is a significant step for me.

Hopefully all of this will mean more words on the page, and more posts on this ol' blog. And maybe, just maybe, some stories to show for it all.

Rollercoasters

This is not going to be one of those "Gee, I sure haven't written a post in a while" posts. The ones where the writer apologises to the masses of disappointed and frustrated readers, ravenously waiting for their next hit of amateur blogging. Even if those masses are mainly made up of their mum and their cat. No, I'm not going to do that. But I am going to talk about the not writing, and how it's an odd reflection of my state of mind.

For a long time now I haven't wanted to write anything. Actually let me rephrase that; I have wanted to have written, to see my words on the page and even to have been paid for those words. But the actual process of writing, the sitting down and typing those words - that I haven't wanted. So I didn't do it. If the last year has taught me anything it's to not be too hard on yourself and to recognise when you just have to stop. So I stopped. I've been reading lots of books (reviews coming soon), watching TV and lots of movies. I haven't been playing games so much because, like writing, I just can't find the energy to actually do it. I have been wanting passive pastimes, rather than active ones. Even the gym took a bit of a backseat, with my regular three visits a week dropping to one, maybe two if I could be arsed.

I think I've seemed okay to others, and have largely felt "okay", but I know that I've been under a shadow for a while now. I only recognised this because it seems to be lifting, letting in some light that had been unknowingly missing. I still haven't gone back to games yet, but ideas for stories are being explored, as well as a lot of research into freelance writing opportunities. The gym is also being graced with my presence a bit more (though work hours conspire to make that as difficult as possible). Chores are (mostly) getting done rather than thought about, dismissed and finally done in a fit of "fine, if you won't clean/cook/wash yourself then I'll bloody well do it". It's odd how a return to normal patterns makes you realise how abnormal they've been.

I've also begun to feel a bit more confident. I think I do a good job most of the time of seeming pretty confident and sure of myself. The reality is I often am struck with impostor syndrome, feeling like I'm going to be found out at any moment. That sensation got a lot worse after Dad died, and coupled with the panic attacks I occasionally got on public transport, left me feeling like a shell made of sugar glass. That's also fading, though not entirely absent - I'm just getting better at telling myself to suck it up and see what happens, rather than worry what the outcome may or may not be.

The roller coaster ride is definitely not over, eight months in and counting, but I'm starting to learn how to deal with the dips and peaks better. It's just a pity I hate roller coasters... 

Pressuring Productivity

I can safely say I have just gone through one of the busiest (work-wise) January's I think I've ever had. Learning new skills, desperately trying to keep up with the tasks and events that come up; it's been a total mind-melt. You know, that feeling when you get home, like there's a sloshy sound in your skull, only relieved with crap TV and junk food. That.

This though is not a complaint. One of the reasons I was so dissatisfied in my previous job(s) was the feeling of not having much to do, and that what I was doing didn't really matter or get noticed much. In contrast everything I do now is under a microscope and does have an impact on how many people engage with the streaming service I work for. If I fuck up they won't know about the latest addition or those really cool shows we made (*cough* watch Transparent and Mozart in the Jungle *cough*). So job satisfaction is pretty high, even if stress levels aren't far behind.

The consequence has been not a lot of my own writing has been happening. Aside from getting home late more often than not, my inspiration energy points are pretty low even when I do get back at a decent time. This has also resulted in fewer tweets, Facebook posts or blog updates. And I really couldn't care less. Which is why I'm here, typing again.

I've realised I've been putting pressure on myself, and feeling obligated, to write. To be productive. With the knock on effect that it just seems like a huge mountain each time I take on any of these small acts of creation. So I procrastinated, put things off and then just never did them. But this last month I've purposely put my energy into my day-job, recognising that this would mean I have less to put into other things. And that that's okay.

One of the worst things for any creative endeavour is resenting the act of creating, feeling like you're being made to do it. With the constant mantras of having to write daily, or put 10,000 hours into your craft before you'll be any good, it's very easy to get bogged down. Well, I've discovered not giving a shit has made me more, not less, productive. I still think about my stories, making small notes about how I can work out plot or character points that aren't working. And I write a small amount whenever I can make the time. But I no longer feel guilty for blowing the writing off to play Dragon Age: Inquisition (love it), or reading the final book in the Wool trilogy (amazing) or watching yet another episode of Community (cool, cool, cool). The removal of that pressure has released me to enjoy it all again, and just do what I can. And knowing, one way or another, that it will be enough.*

They'd only end up covering you in pink and blue anyway.

*Not that this is a green-light to being a lazy git; if you truly want to be something in your life you can't just sit about and wait for the fairies to come along and grant your wish. You've got to do something - but that something doesn't have to crush you under its boot of demands. 

New Year Thoughts

Another year is approaching a new dawn, prompting many to look back at the last twelve months and forward to the future. In some ways my own year has been one of the worst of my life and yet I don't really feel that's entirely accurate. I'm writing this as a press conference is being held in Indonesia announcing that 162 families will never get to see their loved ones again. As awful as losing a parent is I don't think it really compares at all with what those people are going through.

This has got me thinking about how important it is to live your life as part of a society, as a cog in a greater machine. When my dad died I was overwhelmed with the kindness of strangers, friends and family alike. The strength they gave so generously got me through those first confusing and distressing weeks, so that four months on I feel like I'm processing and learning to live with the new reality. Without that support I genuinely don't think that would have been the case; thank you to everyone who was there for me, even if it was just a text message. You'll never know how appreciated it was.

So if I've learned anything from the last twelve months it's to be kind, even if you don't think it will make much difference. I've also learned to live well, and as happily as you can. Embrace the lessons life gives, even if it was unasked for. I learned what loss feels like. I also learned how amazing people can be. I learned how much I appreciate the people in my life.

So whatever you're doing for New Years, give someone you care about a hug, even if it's a virtual one. Raise a glass to those who you've left behind and to those you haven't met yet. And above all: Be excellent to each another.

Making Plans

This past week I've mostly been consumed by the day job. But I am now on a much-needed holiday, which I'm doing in proper stay-cation style. Monday, I plan to see the poppies at the Tower of London before they get taken down, and then I'll be watching Interstellar in the afternoon at the Odeon. From what I've heard it needs a big screen and they don't come much bigger than there.

The rest of the week is going to involve chilling, before going to see a friend of mine who lives up in Derby for the weekend. I'm glad that the week has turned out to have a variety of activities in it, as I don't think I want to be sitting around thinking about things for the whole week. That path would inevitably lead to tears and feeling sorry for myself. I even had a little lump in my throat with the minutes silence held today for Remembrance Sunday. It's strange, the difference between knowing intellectually that people have lost loved ones to war, and knowing first-hand the pain of losing someone so close.

All this talk of the two world wars has also made me think that 2015 will be the year I finally go to Denmark. My grandmother, my dad's mother, was from Copenhagen and the Second World War had a devastating affect on her and the family. When the Nazi's occupied Denmark my family were involved in the resistance, as so many other Danes were. Unfortunately, all of my family, except for my grandmother, was killed or captured. All I know about what happened is that they were attending my great-grandmother's funeral when the Nazis came into the church and opened fire. My grandmother escaped and was in hiding for the rest of the war, until Denmark was liberated by the British. She met my grand-dad, who was with the Navy, they got married and my grandmother went to Irvine in Scotland, to wait for my grand-dad's return. She never talked about it and we're not even sure where exactly she was from; until her death bed my grandmother told no-one anything, and the details my mum managed to get are few and far between.

Dad was never keen on looking into what had happened to his mother's family. His attitude was to let sleeping dogs lie, a mindset I don't doubt he got from my grandmother. But the history buff in me isn't happy with that; and I feel like I owe it to the family to find out about them if I can. And in an odd way I think it might help me process that dad is gone. Even if all I get out of it seeing Copenhagen, it will feel good to reconnect with that bit of my lost past, and maybe a little side of dad too.

As they say at this time of year: "Lest we forget."

Stonehaven War Memorial, 2013

Happy Bonfire Night - However You Celebrate

This week has mainly consisted of this:

And because it is in fact November it means Guy Fawkes Night is upon us, a night I'm not really much of a fan of. You see, I am old and boring, and have been since about the age of fourteen. I hate fireworks and think displays are massively overrated. You spend hours out in the cold, freezing your bits off to watch some explosives way up in the sky make pretty colours. Bah humbug.

The other thing I've never liked about the 5th of November is the whole "burning of the Guy" thing. I love a good bonfire and a traditional pagan style burning ritual, but knowing the history of the Gunpowder Plot stops me from really embracing the fun of burning an effigy of a man who was killed horribly. Told you; old and boring.

One latest addition to Bonfire Night is quite interesting to me though; the "Million Mask March" that occurs in central London, near parliament by the group labelled as "Anonymous". I say labelled, because the actual group are probably long disbanded and/or arrested and the people who now go under that moniker have chosen it for themselves. What I find interesting about it all is how much effort this relatively small amount of people will put into getting the masks from V for Vendetta, creating placards, and marching around London protesting against... something. I'm not entirely clear what precisely they're marching for and even their own website lists a variety of motivations; they march against austerity, infringement of rights, and against mass surveillance. What exactly they want though is unmentioned and for that reason alone it seems utterly pointless to me; a protest without a clearly defined goal is just a bunch of people standing out in the cold, freezing their bits off... hopefully without the explosive bit.


But each to their own - some like to watch fireworks, some like to carry placards and others like to tuck into a nice fish and chip supper while watching The Wicker Man. Happy 5th!

It's That Scary Time of Year Again

As October wanes there is a terrible, daunting and spine chilling event on the horizon. If you're thinking Halloween, you're not thinking scary enough. No, I'm referring to Nanowrimo.

Not a greeting from an alien being, but an event that occurs every year in November, where thousands of would-be-writers lock themselves in their fortress of solitude and attempt to hammer out 50,000 words before December 1st. That might be a whole story, it might be a couple of stories or it might even just be the first quarter of an epic fantasy with a dark lord and mysterious strangers appearing at opportune moments. The important thing is getting 50,000 words written on your story(s) before November ends.

I've done Nanowrimo once and it was really, really hard. I don't actually remember if I managed it or not (which suggests I didn't) but it was a great experience for a few reasons;

• It made me sit and write almost every day.
• It forced me to write over 2000 words in every sitting. Well, actually it made me write 500 words one day and then 3500 on another.
• I realised by the end of the process what an incredible ball-ache writing a novel is.

That last may sound like I didn't enjoy it; I did in fact and would highly recommend it. But it is still an indescribably painful, frustrating and emotional process to actually get 50,000 words on screen in such a short time. Even more painful when you read your manuscript and see you've created a monster that should be locked away in the darkest trunk you can find, and then sunk to the bottom of the sea. But that bit doesn't actually matter (another thing I learned). What matters is actually getting those words down and realising that you are capable of doing it. One of the biggest hurdles to writing is the fear factor, and a big fear is that you just can't hack it. But actually, you probably can. It may make you white haired and gibbering in a corner of the room by the end, but you can do it.

I won't be doing Nanowrimo this year, though I am using the month as an incentive to write at least 500 words of something everyday. I have a spreadsheet and everything:

Date	Month	Word Count Goal	Word Count Actual	Difference	Accrual Goal	Accrual Actual	Difference
10/27/2014	October	500	1064	564	500	1064	564
10/28/2014	October	500		-500	1000	1064	64
10/29/2014	October	500		-500	1500	1064	-436
10/30/2014	October	500		-500	2000	1064	-936
10/31/2014	October	500			2500	1064
11/1/2014	November	500			3000	1064
11/2/2014	November	500			3500	1064
11/3/2014	November	500			4000	1064
11/4/2014	November	500			4500	1064
11/5/2014	November	500			5000	1064
11/6/2014	November	500			5500	1064
11/7/2014	November	500			6000	1064
11/8/2014	November	500			6500	1064
11/9/2014	November	500			7000	1064
11/10/2014	November	500			7500	1064
11/11/2014	November	500			8000	1064
11/12/2014	November	500			8500	1064
11/13/2014	November	500			9000	1064

As you can see I doubled my goal yesterday. This blog post will get me today's target. Geeky? Yes. Useful? Definitely. I am a master at procrastinating, even though I really enjoy writing once I'm sitting down and actually doing it. But it's a game me and my subconscious have to play; I'll tell myself to do something, and the other me will say "okay, in a minute". Five hours later and I'm practically screaming at myself to do the thing I want to do. But I still find distractions and shiny things. In fact to understand just how bad this can get go to Hyperbole and a Half to read the post that I think may have been stolen from my own head.

So, in the face of my own never-ending ability to not do the thing I need to do, I need to come up with ways to trick or force myself into it. The above spreadsheet is my whip with which I will hit myself to get shit done. It has worked before, but I think I made the goal too high, so I soon just threw the whip away and played Plants vs Zombies instead. This time I've kept it low; I know I can clear 500 words in under thirty minutes, if the wind blows right, so it's not as daunting as setting 1000 words as the target instead. Hell, this 'ere blog post is already 790 words so I'm totally on target for today.

If you do decide to take on the Nanowrimo challenge - I highly suggest you do if you want to write novels or short stories for a living - then I can only offer the following advice.

• Do play the numbers game: you will not always be able to hit your daily word goal, so there will be some days you can allow yourself to write very little, as long as you write a lot on another day.
• Schedule days off. Seriously, it will stop your brain from dribbling out your ears and down your neck. No one wants brain matter on their clothes.
• Try to get some sort of story plan together before you start. Even if you only plan each day as it happens, it really helps to have thought about what you're going to write before you sit in your writing chair. Otherwise you'll end up staring at the screen as though you're looking into the great empty eyes of Cthulhu before it devours you.
• Do not beat yourself up if you don't actually write 50,000 words in the time frame; the point of this challenge is to get into the habit of writing, and prove to yourself you can churn out the words when you need to. Think of it like exercise: you may not be able to run the whole marathon and get to the end drawing on your hands and knees, but just getting over that finish line is proof that you are a super-amazing wonder-person who may not be able to fly, but it is not through a want of trying. And you have the broken bones to prove it.

If you want to be as geeky as me I really recommend some kind of spreadsheet too. Not only does it allow you to track how you're doing it also means you can make really nifty graphs and stuff to show your good and bad days, or if you add it, your best times of day to write. And then, when you see the fruits of your labours in those pretty charts you can give yourself a pat on the back, and proudly say, "I am a geeky writer".

Victory hedgehog believes in you!

Feelings

Feelings are weird. They rarely behave how you expect them to and when they do it's more puzzling than reassuring. The last two months have been a strange ride, and a big part of me can't believe my dad's been gone for that long; yet it's no time at all. By and large it's been an odd mixture of feeling not a lot before either crashing into a pile of tears or laughing so hard I am yet again crying. But in a good way. I think.

One weird thing I've noticed is anything can set me off laughing or sobbing. I was standing waiting for a tube train at a station I've used a gazillion times. It is also the station my dad used for the 37 odd years he worked in London. This tiny thought barely passed through my squidgy brain and it left behind an emotional storm akin to Hurricane Bawbag. Only a sheer force of stubbornness stopped me from sobbing on that platform.

Two days later I read a tumblr post about a guy playing the Sims while drunk, and it made me laugh so hard I couldn't see or breathe. It's not even that funny. Well, it is, if you're a gamer who also tortured poor little sims in a variety of fucked-up-this-is-what-hell-is-like ways. But it cracked me up to the point my sides hurt.

The rest of the time is even stranger. I can have perfectly normal conversations, I enjoy people's company, I am genuinely emotionally engaged with what's going on. But afterwards it seems like someone turned the volume down or forgot to paint the colours in. It's all just a bit "meh".

Essentially this grief business is a complete and utter mind-fuck; just when you think you're maybe getting a grip on it all, a page from a newspaper will drift past on the wind and remind you of that time your loved one did a thing or said a thing. There's absolutely no frickin similarity between that damned bit of paper and the memory but nevertheless your brain goes, "huh, that reminds me of this time you probably don't want to think about right now, but I'm going to make you think about it anyway, because I'm a sadistic prick who is going to make you have feels - whether you want to or not."

The one thing I can say about all this is I am definitely getting a much better understanding of how to write more rounded characters with major emotional issues. In an odd way keeping a part of myself as an observer is helping, as it provides a distance when all of these feelings get a bit too much. Writing what you know has never rung more true for me than right now.

Finding Comfort in TV Shows

Two weeks have passed since my last post and my life is settling back into a routine again, albeit one with a massive missing piece. It's an odd experience, trying to create a new normal. All you can do is take it all one day at a time and try not to think too much about times to come and who's going to be missing from those future events. I've made plans already to be with Mum over Christmas for a full two weeks; we both know it's going to be hard but hopefully being together will soften the ache the vacant chair is going to evoke. I'm also keeping myself busy with work, and with my at home activities. But I'm still making sure I take time to feel and mourn as needed; it's surprising how sneaky grief can be.

Over the weekend I watched the entire first season of Transparent on Amazon Prime. It is without a doubt one of the best TV shows I have seen in a long while. It was created and directed by Jill Soloway, probably best known for writing episodes of Six Feet Under. Challenging, funny, bittersweet, Transparent genuinely has it all. Sadly I know a lot of people will be put off or otherwise not give it a chance purely because of the subject matter and the mature nature of the programme. This is a show not embarrassed by the human body, and explores the nature of gender, being true to yourself and living your life for others sake, regardless of your own desires. It stars Jeffrey Tambor in career defining form as Mort Pfefferman, who has finally decided to live how he always wanted to; as a she. The impact this has on the family, along with flashbacks on his road to discovery, make up the first season.

With each episode only lasting for half an hour, quick-fire dialogue and outstanding performances from all, Transparent is a rare TV gem. It also made me cry horrendously. Not because of the content (though the whole family storyline did bring up feels) but due to the musical choices. A lot of it is the kind of music Dad always listened to. And then at the end of the ninth episode, they played one of the songs we had for Dad's funeral, Leonard Cohen's "That's No Way to Say Goodbye". I am not ashamed to admit I bawled like a baby. It was unexpected, but oddly was a great relief to get so much of the pain out. Because this is the thing about grief; it doesn't come when you want it to or in the way you expect. It builds up inside you without you being aware of it, like poison waiting to be drained. Then it hits you sideways and you just hope it won't be when you're in a room full of people.

If it weren't for TV box sets and streaming services I can guarantee all of this would be harder to deal with. So far I've finished Transparent, two Seasons of the Borgias (also amazing), Arrow Season 1 and a number of films. I've also been making time for writing every day and am finding that this too is a great cathartic experience. Not just getting words down and exploring a story, but feeling like even in the middle of this hurricane I'm in right now, that I'm still moving toward something. Watching inspiring things like Transparent only encourages me to keep going, in the hope that the something I'm moving toward is a story of my own that's half as good.

Observations on Grief

There are times when life tests us, when just getting through the day is a goal in and of itself. Trying not to block emotion, but at the same time trying to not let the tidal wave of feeling engulf us. I'm in that place right now and it is a strange, frustrating, educational and, at times, painful place to be. I'm making goals for myself, taking time to enjoy things, and giving myself permission to just feel what I need to feel without embarrassment or self-consciousness. This is what's been going on since my dad died two and half weeks ago from a heart attack.