Creative Doodles

A lot of people in my life love Winter and rejoice at the disappearance of sunlight (perhaps I'm friends with too many vampires?). I was determined to embrace the darknesss this year and convinced myself the rainy nights would motivate me to double my creative output... Then October and the pitch black mornings arrived, along with an unpleasant sickness bug, and me and Winter were once again not such great friends. My motivation had been zapped and I was missing being able to SEE my surroundings on my commute to and from work.

Then this morning Winter showed me her beautiful side. On an early walk to the station I was blinded by a blood red sun which slowly disappeared behind the gothic spires of a distant church. As the sky dissolved into shades of pink and orange I thought okay, maybe this is the season to be jolly after all...

I've been thinking about all of the people who are taking part in NaNoWriMo this month (I applaud your discipline and wish you well). The thought of rushing a novel doesn't appeal to me, but the challenge of upping my creative output does...So for the rest of November I'm setting myself a challenge of producing something creative, (no matter how small), every day to kickstart my motivation.

Yesterday I'd hoped to write a 4,000 word story but probably produced about 100 words I was actually happy with. I was having trouble switching off that pesky logical 'left hand' side of my brain and then I remembered a tip in my Mslexia writing diary (taken from the book  'Drawing on the Right Hand Side of the Brain') which suggested you start drawing, listening to music, do some gardening or meditate, in order to force a cognitive shift and send the left hand side into shutdown.

So I kept listening to music and started doodling (the result of which is at the top of this post). It seemed to work  - maybe a bit too well as I found myself wide awake at 3am this morning with new ideas for stories whirring around my head...

Here's to the dark and rainy nights where we get to lock ourselves indoors without the guilt of feeling like we should be enjoying the sunshine outside... Happy writing!

Flash Fiction Publications

In the past wee while I've had some success with my flash fiction appearing in online journals. I love the challenge of telling a story in as few words as possible, and I think short works can sometimes have the most impact. This form has taught me a lot about character development and the senses.

Here are links to some of my stories:

Ghosts is published in Issue III of the Scottish Journal The Grind. My story is in Part B and you can download the journal by clicking here 

My story Once Ours is published at Word Bohemia. You can read this here

My story Baby appeared at FlashFlood journal on National Flash Fiction day back in June. You can read that here  

And this techincally can't be called a flash fiction story (or can it?!) as it's only 50 words. My story Into the Woods can be read here at Fifty Word stories

 The Scottish Book Trust run monthly 50 word story competitions. If you're up for the challenge check out details of that here

Radio Waves

A couple of months ago a friend sent me a link to an essay titled 'The Opposite of Loneliness', written by a Yale student, Marina Keegan, who was approaching graduation. The essay appeared in the graduation issue of the Yale Daily News back in 2012. In the essay Marina speculated about life after university. She described campus as a place where she felt like she was part of something, and where she felt the 'opposite of loneliness.' In the essay she expressed some fear and uncertainty about what lay beyond the security of university. But her tone was optimistic with lines such as, 'We can't, we MUST not lose this sense of possibility because in the end, it's all we have.'
It wasn't until I'd finished reading the article that I noticed the byline along the top stating that Marina Keegan died in a car accident five days after graduation, at the age of 22. Goosebumps darted up my arms as a line from her essay jumped out at me: 'We're so young. We're so young. We're twenty-two years old. We have so much time.'

Recently I was on holiday on a Riviera cruise for a family celebration. I could easily have lived on the ship. It even had a library. I visited the library the first afternoon I was on the ship but couldn't really find anything. I was determined to find something good, and something which I could finish in the eight days I'd be there. On my second visit I walked straight up to a book titled, 'The Opposite of Loneliness'. Pulling it out of the bookcase I recognised a photo of Marina Keegan on the front. The book was a post-humous collection of her short stories and non fiction articles, named after the aforementioned essay. So of course this became my reading matieral during my holiday.

I was in awe that she had managed to produce so much polished writing whilst studying what had to be an intense academic degree (she was at Yale after all). She approached her writing in a very disciplined manner (which made me think I should become a lot more disciplined with my writing). She talked of her disappointment at not being asked to join some university secret society club and instead of wallowing she decided to dedicate the Thursday night when the group met to writing instead (giving her three solid hours or so). Her fiction was very insightful and mature for a twenty two year old, but it was her non fiction I enjoyed the most, as it revealed more about her inner thoughts and personality.

In some of her works she had a bit of a preoccupation with death, not in a depressive way, more in a philosophical way. I wonder if her family draw comfort from reading some of her musings. In the Introduction her parents write that the car crash occured due to her boyfriend falling asleep at the wheel, on a journey to their house. Her parents refused to let him take any blame and attended court to ensure all charges were dropped because they knew it would have been what Marina wanted. This tells you a lot about Marina I think, and her parents. Through putting together this book it was clear they realised the importance of allowing her voice to be heard, of allowing her words to be read, and creating something positive from a tragic situation.

In a foreward, her tutor talked of her passion for writing and the way in which she challenged an author who was being negative about the future of the industry. Her passion and enthusiam came across in many ways throughout this body of work, and her determination to write fuelled a new determination in me. It's easy to start doubting your work if doors are shut and this flipped a switch in me not to give up. Maybe it's self indulgent to think I was supposed to find her book on this holiday, but I love moments of synchronicity as I believe it's the world's way of saying PAY ATTENTION - someone, somewhere is trying to tell you something. In one of her stories she refers to a poem 'Ode On A Grecian Urn'. This poem features in the book I'm still trying to get published and I took this as another nudge, keep going, get it back out there.

I smiled when I came to the line in her non fiction essay, Song for the Special 'I want what I think and who I am captured in an anthology of indulgence I can comfortingly tuck in some labyrinthine library.' In her closing paragraph the goosebumps returned at her words:
'I read somewhere that radio waves just keep travelling outward, flying into the Universe with eternal vibrations. Sometime before I die I think I'll find a microphone and climb to the top of a radio tower...Hello, I'll say to outer space, this is my card.'

Wanderlust

As I once again fill my suitcase with far too many clothes in preparation for another trip away, I've taken some time out to update my blog as I feel it's been far too long since I've sat down to write anything more than a few scribbled lines or ideas. The good thing about travelling to lots of new places and being busy is that it does make new ideas pop into my head, and I know once things slow down again I'll at least have some fresh material which I'll then attempt to shape into something coherent.

A highlight of one trip was stumbling across a private members club in Perth (Scotland). On the walk back to our hotel one evening my friend and I noticed some lamps shining in the window of an old building and we made jokes about it looking like a Vampire hang out. Then a man appeared out of the side door asking if we would like to come in for a look around. And in we went. The main room was decorated with ornate furniture and elaborate paintings and a bar was set up at the side. The owners - a male and female - enthusiastically told us about their 'private club', how they didn't like to advertise and preferred to choose who attended. The woman kept going on about the 'girls' who came to drink and party; how they liked the quiet and safe environment. As we got taken on a 'tour' and were offered a drink my writers imagination went into overdrive and part of me wondered if we were both going to be taken hostage and join other unsuspecting 'girls' in some old attic. That didn't happen obviously. My photos of the main room don't do it justice.


During the same break, I came across love padlocks on a bridge in Pitlochry. I never imagined to see this tradition in such a rural part of Scotland. It made me think back to my trip to Paris in April (where part of their bridge has now fallen apart under the weight of the padlocks!). This bridge looks very sturdy and robust. I'm sure it could handle a few more declarations of love (so long as the keys aren't being thrown in the river as that pollutes the water).

The other weekend I was in Cardiff catching up with a friend I'd not seen for ages. The stunning castle is just a stones throw away from the busy high street which makes the city feel like a strange contrast of modern and old. There was a medieval festival taking place, so it was enjoyable to walk around the castle grounds pretending I had stepped back in time for a while. There was even a battle re-enactment but I was more interested in the amazing gothic architecture.














Au revoir for now as I head off on my next adventure!

Everything, everywhere

Sometimes when life gets busy the writing has to take a back seat for a while. And a conversation today got me to thinking about the importance of fitting in some creativity into the every day, even when time is limited. That then got me thinking about what creativity actually is, and I think it can be as simple as how you view things and situations in every day life- you know in those boring moments when you're caught in the rat race of travelling to work on the same route, following the same routine. If you keep your eyes open, there's usually something a bit out of the ordinary waiting to be noticed and turned into a story or an interesting photograph.

Sometimes I'll find inspiration in the most unexpected of places - like on a quiet afternoon walking down my local dreary high street I'll spot someone who makes me look up and wonder, 'What is their story?'.  An old man pushing an empty wheelchair intrigued me enough to get filed away in one of my many notebooks and later became a character in a story which is currently awaiting publication. (The only thing my character had in common with him was the empty wheelchair - I never spoke to the real man and visually I created someone else).

Other times I'll see an image of something and experience that 'light bulb' moment of inspiration. I was going through photos on an old mobile phone the other week and I came across the picture at the head of this post which inspired my whole blog. The photo is of a window display at a great little shop called 'Urban Empire' on Commercial Drive in Vancouver. As I caught sight of my reflection in the glass, whilst looking at Alice in Wonderland paraphernalia, I thought about how Through the Looking Glass would be a great name for a blog about observations of life (and the computer screen would be a metaphor of sorts for the glass). This was a good few years ago and my Mum had often suggested I start a blog, but I had put it off, not knowing what on earth I would write about. The trip was a good starting point to my posts, and having a name for the blog gave it some kind of a purpose...

The other night I was at a gig, (Owen Pallet - who was amazing live), and something about that evening inspired a whole set of scenes for a novel I've been thinking about for a while. Even although I've barely put any of this book down on paper my mind was working in overdrive that night -presenting the opening scenes and playing out key moments of the book in my head like I was watching stills from a movie of the characters' lives. When I got home I frantically scribbled down as much as I could remember. I don't think the book is ready to be written yet, but at least I feel like I've made some progress, even if my word count is practically non existent.
You can click here to listen to one of my favourite songs from the gig, The Passions.

I sometimes think taking time out from actually putting words and pictures down on paper is as valuable as when you do finally get around to finishing the final piece.

And on that note I'll leave you with a paraphrase of a Burton Rascoe quote: '...a writer is working when (s)he is staring out the window.'

Create

Over a 12 week period from March to May I had Mondays off from my day job to devote to writing. Unsurprisingly it became my favourite day of the week.I treated it like a work day, getting up early, making sure I had a some words down before lunch. Never before had I looked forward to working so much on a Monday! Any creative person who works full time I’m sure can identify with the frustration of having to go into the office on days where all you want to do is lose yourself in words or art. 

Knowing I only had this luxury for 12 weeks really helped me focus and I completed at least one or two new stories, (sometimes spending some of the time editing old ones), every Monday. Some I’m really happy with, some I’m not, but the important thing is I got words down on paper.

My original aim had been to complete my second YA novel but I realised I wanted to use the time to focus on a different type of writing and experiment a bit.

There were moments where I started to overthink and panic, thinking I might waste the whole day staring at a blank computer screen. If lines weren’t flowing for one story, I would simply abandon it and move onto something else.

One weekend in amongst my Mondays when I was feeling a bit demotivated and uninspired, (and probably having a bit of a week where I was doubting my writing, amongst other things), I sat in a café reading through a helpful little booklet which was free with Writing Magazine, called ‘Just Write’ (7 days of inspiration to unlock your creativity). I liked the NO RULES in bold at the top of the booklet, because really when you start setting yourself strict rules in writing that’s when your words stop flowing…

I paid particular attention to the Neil Gaiman quote in the book: ‘Life is sometimes hard. Things go wrong, in life and in love and in business and in friendship and in health and in all the other ways that life can go wrong. And when things get tough, this is what you should do. Make good art.’ (taken from Neil Gaiman's commencement speech 'Make Good Art' delivered to the University of Arts in 2012).

On leaving the café I stopped in at Waterstones in search of a book I’ve always meant to read called ‘The Artists’ Way.’ As soon as I walked to the art section a different book caught my eye. It was called ‘Make Good Art’. Yup- it was Neil Gaiman’s whole speech in a creative book form! So I sat and read the whole speech (you should look it up - you can hear/see him speak it on youtube). Some very encouraging and inspiring words for artists everywhere.

The weekend after this I met up with a friend for a late birthday get together. The photo at the top of this blog post is part of her present to me. The ‘Create Happiness’ pencils and the blank journal seemed like another sign that I should continue with the making and the creating!

So now my Mondays off are over that’s the challenge – to keep making good art and figure out a schedule which works for me to make sure I give myself time to do this.

A friend recently recommended an interesting book called ‘Daily Rituals: How Artists Work’ by Mason Currey, which documents over one hundred famous writers'/artists’/musicians' working routines. I envy the writers who can get up at 5.30am (some as early as 4am) and function.

I've come to the conclusion that it's probably best I don't try to think too much about a writing 'routine' and instead focus on getting words down anytime, anywhere that I can, and worry about the sentence structure during moments of calm.

So that said, I think it's time we all got off the internet to go and make some good art!

Lost in Paris ~ Part 2

On a walk along the famous Pont des Arts bridge, I stumbled across a tour party and listened with interest to the guide's stories about the famous 'Love Padlocks' (pictured above). Apparently the Love Locks started to appear in 2008 as a result of the famous scene in the last episode of Sex and the City, where Carrie and Big kiss on this bridge. Romantics from all over the world came to share a kiss on the bridge, leaving a mark of their eternal love by writing their names on a padlock and fastening it to the bridge, then throwing away the key into the Seine. The guide joked that if you look close enough you'll see three names on some padlocks, as the French are fond of the Menage a trois. He also said that local boys tend to buy combination padlocks if their love is insincere.
The trend has become so popular that Pont des Arts is now overflowing with padlocks, and the trend has extended to other bridges across the city.

Locals have started a protest to get them removed, and the government is taking steps towards this (the day I was on the bridge a panel had already been taken away). They believe the padlocks are ruining beautiful historical structures as the weight of the padlocks is damaging the bridge, as well as altering it visually. Environmentalists have also been leading protests, as the keys being thrown into the Seine are polluting the water. I like the quirky trend, but I can understand why the locals want to preserve the beauty of their city. I love the fact some couples have now resorted to clipping their padlocks onto the lamp posts...

I love walking around the St Germaine part of Paris - this is where a lot of famous artists and literary types used to hang out back in the day, and I think it has a really magical atmosphere. As soon as I stepped inside Jardin de Luxembourg I felt the same sense of calm I experienced on my last visit. I enjoyed watching children sailing old fashioned boats on the pond - there's a sense of stepping back in time in this park and this image only added to that. The photo I captured of the boats is one of my favourites from this trip.

One of my favourite discoveries on this trip was the Stravinksy Fountain, which is outside the Pompidou Centre. The whole surrounding area is like a Surrealist exhibition, with interesting grafitti on the walls and steps, and the bizarre sculptures in the fountain itself look like something from a Tim Burton film set. I spent a lot of time walking around the fountain, taking photos of the sculptures from different angles. The more I looked at it, the more bizarre it became!

What added to the whole scene was when a gang of young men arrived, and sat at the edge of the fountain, dressed in black and purple studded clothes, with spiked or dreadlock hair. They looked like futuristic rebels from a dystopian film and had quite an intimidating air about them. They kept laughing amongst themselves as if they knew a secret about the fountain none of us ignorant tourists had any clue about. I was too scared to take a photograph of them! Wish I hadn't been such a chicken now.

A peaceful moment was sitting in Park Jean XIII, which overlooks the back section of Notre Dame. You can see so much gothic detail on the building from this angle, that it's a nice place to sit. A local Parisian man sat down beside me and chatted for a while, telling me that the Illes St Louis part of Paris has become so expensive only rich Americans and Italians can afford to buy apartments there. He told me that the leaves of the trees in this park are magic, and that if you leave them in water for 6 months and then pour it into your plants they bloom within days.

What made this trip, was the quirky hotel I stayed in, Hotel Notre Dame.  My friend Rebecca had blogged about it after her stay there last year and I loved the unique/arty style of the rooms. The real selling point was the prospect of having a room overlooking Notre Dame and the Seine, which I got. Nothing quite beats the sound of the bells of Notre Dame ringing in the early morning.

Paris, I look forward to a part 3 sometime.