Last month you might remember I decided to try a January writing challenge, to write 'small stones' throughout the month. The idea being:
~ Notice one thing each day
~ Give your whole awareness to it
~ Write it down
Last year I already started to write an 'inspiration' type journal, capturing observations, snippets of everyday life, ideas, thoughts and so on. I used this challenge to form shorter, more poetic/creative type observations and it has definitely been a good way to kick start my creativity for the year.
In the past week I've written some new flash fiction pieces (or returned to old ones to edit). Something else which helped, was reading the opening pages of my Mslexia Writing Diary (which my Mum very kindly gave me - thanks Mum!). The article 'Your Creative Journey' encouraged me to consider my writing ambitions, reflect on what I accomplished last year, and set myself new goals for this year.
Goals can sometimes be restrictive if you make them too specific, so I decided to set quite broad ones such as 'Let go of the fear and just write' and 'Have self belief and keep submitting'. The first one was quite important as lately I've been over analysing my new book too much, worrying if it's good enough, where is it heading and so on. So the decision to return to writing shorter forms for a while, just freeing my mind and seeing what words landed on the page, has definitely banished that fear and allowed me to re-discover the fun of writing!
Here's a selection of my 'small stones' from January below. Did anyone else take up the challenge or set themselves writing goals for the year?
*Note - the first small stone was inspired by a film, just in case you're wondering what kinds of things I was 'noticing' throughout Jan!
A tender caress soaked in ruby red;
danger, scorpion sting, passion, blood. Tainting the innocent hope of love,
trapped by destiny.
Winter Trees: Spindly, rigid branches
like old men frozen in time, reaching for the stars, waiting for the kiss of
Spring to awaken their rotting frame.
A face which wears its worry. Every hurt,
fear and disappointment her son inflicted, is etched into
her lines, tarnishing her own forgotten youth.
Pink balloons tied to a red gate,
blowing in the wind. The house looks deserted, lights out, silent, as if the
balloons belong to a forgotten party.
Train flashes past yellow fields – a
glimmer of light awakening this dark winter morning.
Heart shaped tangerine peel abandoned on
the top step. Layers peeled back, the best bit consumed, now the rest…left to
rot.
Local girl climbing a lamppost, one
trainer clad foot balancing on the handlebars of her scooter. ‘Just try me,’ a
look of defiance stretching across her face as she reigns above her ginger
haired follower.
