Putting Things Finally To Bed

A few weeks ago over at Veg Plotting, I wrote about the creative writing course I was attending at the time and whether writing was the right avenue for me. I had lots of lovely comments and advice as a result. I've continued to mull things over during the Christmas period and I've decided it's something I do want to pursue, but not down the particular route the course was going. I believe feature writing is something I'd like to do and I also have an idea for a book. It's all very exciting.

However, I do feel I need to put my course to bed by typing up the only piece which I feel is up to my usual blogging standard. It's ironic that I was completely uninspired by the course itself and was in danger of not completing my homework one week. We'd been doing a series on 'The night was...' and this was the result.

'Every night was quiet.' I'm stuck. A week's gone by and I still have no story to share. I've stared at the blank page, the wall and mid air willing the next words to come. I've parked them in the back of my mind for a while; I've tried different words; I've gone off and done other things. But there's rien, nada, nothing.

My first idea was to tell last week's tale from the man's point of view. There's so many questions from then with no answer. What's his name? Al, Bill, Chris... none fits the father of Jake. I can't name his wife either, though I can see her as plain as day. Why is she on her own? What-if? I have the start, but I can't see the end. Once more I set my tale to one side whilst we visit my husband's family up north. My niece loves writing, so wants to hear about the course. I tell her my problem and we start with names, going through all the boys in her class. Still no fit, still no what-if, still no end.

It's the 'facing the blank page' which called me to sign up for this course in the first place. I've had a year of tales tumbling out of my head each day. Months of fun and the pleasures of writing, but with a voice of doubt in my head which says 'Ah yes, but what happens when there's no tale there, what do you do then?' Well, each week here I've come very close to that and the one's the nearest yet. But at 3 o'clock this morning - the best time for ideas I find - the light bulb's finally gone on in my head. So whilst the night is quiet, I'm facing the blank page and I'm ready to begin.

Introducing Your Messages

The Garden Monkey's always a good source of entertaining or thought provoking material and yesterday I was delighted to be sent this link to the intriguing Your Messages project. The challenge is to write a 30 or 300 word response to a thirty word theme and a different one is posted each day in November.

My regular blog is just on a year old and although I have posted more than 1 post per day during that time, I live in constant fear I'll run out of things to say. That's why I signed up for a WEA creative writing course at my local Arts Centre recently. It mentions fear of the blank page and is aimed at both fiction and non-fiction writers, so I thought I would give it a go. I'm finding I'm well outside my comfort zone. For me the class exercises are quite trying - we have 5 minutes or so to come up with a response to an idea, write it down and then talk or read to the class about it. That spontaneity is very hard: everyone busily writes away and I stare into space looking for inspiration. It's my transition from logical, informative viewpoint to a more creative world that's getting in the way. By the end of each class I find myself close to having a panic attack.

So I've decided to try Your Messages as my own class exercise to get over the problem. A quick read of the theme, then 5 to ten minutes to come up with a response. I'll be trying to avoid cliche whilst keeping an awareness of what if and the element of surprise. My responses are posted as Comments on the website - but I also want my own record of what I've come up with - where better than here in my Box of Delight?

This post forms the start of the series, but of course will be published as the latest one posted, even though it's the first. Ahhh, the joys of blogging!

Here's the explanatory blurb from the website - together with my commented response to it. Using 30 words of course!

November 2008 and Your Messages is Back...

...by popular demand! But in a different incarnation because there’s no way we could duplicate November 2007’s amazing project that culminated in the launch of Your Messages at the Poetry Café in London in February this year.

Every day during the month of November 2008 we will post a writing prompt of exactly 30 words and you’re invited to respond, via the comments box, with your own original piece of writing which may be either exactly 30 words or 300 words long.

At the end of the month we’ll be choosing one response as the overall prize-winner (although we may well comment on one or two others as well) and the writer of that piece will receive signed copies of our books: Leading the Dance, Learning How to Fall, Something Beginning With and The Oven House.

And how will we make our decision from so much fine writing? Here are a few things to bear in mind:

1.There should be some kind of link to the prompt, e.g. theme, image, word or phrase
2.It should be a stand-alone piece of writing.
3.It has to be brilliant! :-)))

We look forward to meeting up with as many old and new ‘Messagers’ as possible online from 1st November.

Let the writing begin. Again!

Sarah & Lynne

My Comment (the 17th to the original post):

What a brilliant idea! I'll get my thinking cap on now. And if that doesn't work, I'll enjoy everyone else's contributions. A great way to brighten our dull November days.

And then I looked more closely at the two organisers and realised one of them is Sarah Salway, who kindly donated to my Open Garden fundraiser. Even more reason to keep on trying with this during November.

Snowscenes

Your Messages - prompt for Day 30

He calls them his little worlds. With one shake, he can change everything - not just the weather but the way their stories end. He lines them up. Which one today?

It's the last prompt for the month and this year, so I felt it needed more than just my simple response. I'd also pointed out on yesterday's prompt they'd called it Friday again rather than Saturday, hence my thanking them for the mention in the introduction for today.

Thanks for the mention! I've thoroughly enjoyed my month here, especially reading everyone else's efforts. It's been so much better than the creative writing course I've been attending locally. And no, this is not a shameless effort to sway the judges - it's what I think! Good luck to everyone and here's my final effort:

My nephew often lives in his own little world and whispers conspiratorially to his special companion. My niece teases him mercilessly. He emerges from his reverie shaken but not stirred.

Now to add my responses to last weekend's prompts here (I missed them because we were away in Leeds) and to add some of the stuff from my creative writing course as a record for posterity!

Just One Cornetto?

Your Messages - Theme for Day 29

He wants a banana split with ice-cream, strawberry sauce and chocolate. And he wants it now. Otherwise he will scream. His mother sighs, sees too much of herself in him.

My response:

Knickbocker Glory's always been my favourite. A last day treat at Forte's on seaside holidays. With a spoon as long as my arm and eyes much bigger than my tummy.

We're Off to See The Wizard

Your Messages - Theme for Day 28

The blisters make walking agony. She wishes she wasn't vain, that she wore flat shoes, stomped happily. Then she looks down and sees the red sequin flash. Home, she sighs.

My response:

Dorothy was tired of following the Yellow Brick Road. Her companions were really getting up her nose. She clicked her red shoes together. 'There's no place like home', she said.

I really liked today's prompt (my favourite so far), so immediately wrote another:

I love my wellies! Who needs high heels when there's all those splashy puddles to explore? Wheeeeeeeee! See - I can cover you in mud, no problem. I'll never grow up...

It's Better to Travel

Your Messages - Theme for Day 27

You can want something so badly it hurts, even when you know it's not right. The gold crucifix with paste jewels, the low cut t-shirt, the curly haired ticket collector.

My response:

What happens when you achieve the unattainable? It's one sweet moment of pleasure followed by a lifetime of loss and disappointment. Sometimes it's best not to arrive at journey's end.

This Old House

Your Messages - Theme for Day 26

They ignore the dripping taps and the damp spots. Look at the cherry blossom view, he says. They kiss, they dance. Months later, they can't stop worrying about the cracks.

My response:

Hunkered down into the landscape, the old house had seen it all. Its cracked windows and skewed slates could tell many a fine tale. If anyone was prepared to listen.

Go Fish

Your Messages - Theme for Day 25:

Ever since the Giant Pike Accident, he keeps his mouth shut when swimming. Alone in the night, lips twitching, he can still feel the fish flap deep inside. Searching.

My response:

He felt Esox lucius' kisses a thousand times in its quest for air and freedom. It mashed up his insides and brain until he could only speak in cod latin.

Esox lucius = latin name for Pike

Champagne Charlie

Your Messages - Theme for Day 24:

She thought she might be one of those women who only drank champagne, wore silk negligees, smoked Turkish cigarettes, laughed twinkily and talked about nothing. Luckily, events worked against her.

My response:

The smart WAAF uniform and the thrill of delivering planes to the edge of the theatre of war was exactly the wake-up call she needed. She'd never felt so alive.

The Sorcerer's Apprentice

Your Messages - Theme for Day 23:


The magician who guides the sparkling glass spheres through the air might be performing a miracle – the way they seem to float above his palms. Sometimes not knowing is enough.


My Response (not submitted as I was away for the weekend):

'I've got all these balls in the air and none of them are coming down' said my first boss frequently. Such were the frustrations of working in the Civil Service.

Animal, Vegetable or Mineral?

Your Messages - Theme for Day 22


He said I was an egg. That meant naivety, a lack of development, but also strength. I said he was a turnip. He said, I don’t want to play anymore.


My response (not submitted as I was away for the weekend):

What's it to be - animal, vegetable or mineral? Or all three perhaps - the strengths of each combined without any weaknesses. Such is the alchemy dreamed of by misguided genetic engineers.

Sucking Up

Your Messages - Theme for Day 21

Leeches were once a favoured species. They sang; their bodies were encased in mother of pearl shells. The first leech to taste blood said it was all a terrible mistake.

My response:

Today leeches are only of value to some medical practioners and all freshwater biologists. Hold up a freshly caught leech to anyone else and watch them squirm. 'Ewwwwww!' They exclaim.

The Truth About Cats and Dogs

Your Messages - Theme for Day 20

"If you want fidelity, get a dog. It’ll make you happier", my mother said. "You have dogs and you’re not happy", I told her. "I know. Bad dogs!" she laughed.

My response:

Our cats Skimble and Jess make me happy. They're funny, mischevious, playful and full of cupboard love. They're not high maintenance like dogs and are excellent nursemaids when I'm ill.

The Longing

Your Messages - Theme for Day 19


When the baby dies, even the house seems to grieve. The front-door gasps as if light and air are too bright and sharp to meet. In one room, such silence.


My response:

But when there's no baby, no matter how hard they've tried, the world carries on regardless. Only the couple grieve. The empty room a symbol of their failure, accuses forever.

A Weighty Tome

Your Messages - Theme for Day 18

The History of Doubts was the world's heaviest book. 'Are you REALLY sure you want to take it out?' the librarian would ask. The book always stayed on the shelf.

My response:

But Sally was certain she DID want to take it out. The librarian sighed and dialled the number of the forklift truck company they kept to hand, just in case.

Some Day My Prince Will Come

Your Messages - Theme for Day 17

If I have to kiss another frog, I'll scream. I don't even want a prince. I want a girl on a bicycle and a picnic wrapped in a red handkerchief.

My response:

How about a hot air balloon? Freedom, randomness and breezes on our faces. Absolutely no princes. Just cold champagne to celebrate when we come down to earth with a bump.

And I Can Hear, See, Smell, Touch, TASTE!

Your Messages - Theme for Day 16

He keeps the beer bottle top in the pocket of his winter coat. Each time he slips his hand in, away from the cold, he remembers the taste of him.

Two responses today. The first one's a bit obvious:

Emptying her coat pockets revealed: a biro, some loose change, gloves, countless shredded tissues. A tattered piece of paper fluttered to the floor. His telephone number. Dare she call? Later.

I prefer the theme for the second one, but had real difficulty in restricting it to 30 words. With further research and time, I think it might be worth expanding into a 300 word response:

The Chinese five elements system defines taste as sweet, sour, bitter, salty and pungent. My western tongue needs to find the elusive pungency, to let it explode in my mouth.

It might have been better as:

The Chinese five elements system defines taste as sweet, sour, bitter, salty and pungent. My western tongue needs to find the fifth element, to let it explode in my mouth.

I don't know - the first version shows pungency isn't recognised as a taste in the west, the second attempt has more of a mystery to it. However I'm not sure about using 'fifth element' - is it a bit too repetitive seeing the first sentence contains the words 'five elements system'? I've let my comment on Your Messages stay with my original version.

Under the Carpet

Your Messages - Theme for Day 15

Score these words on ‘the funny scale’, with 1 being hilarious, and 10 being humourless: ping, kipper, boobs, diarrhea, macramé, tenderloin, poppadom, squib, lobworm, flageolet, demijohn, chomp, alpenstock, jig, underlay.

My response:

Underlay had always seemed such a dull, humourless word to her. Until she met her new boyfriend Tony, a carpet fitter. Now they were always rolling on the floor laughing.

The Tracks of My Tears

Your Messages - Theme for Day 14

Five ways to cry and not be noticed: in the shower, staring at the sun, watching ‘Braveheart’, in a five mile tailback on the M25, in all sorts of rain.

My response:

He always cried crocodile tears. They streamed down his face, always on public display so he'd get all the sympathy. My tears were well disguised - hidden from view by fear.

Swimming Upstream

Your Messages - Theme for Day 13

On the map of my life I have coloured in a long, blue river. It runs underground in places, forcing its way through rock, but ahead, always, the open sea.

My response:

The Grand Canyon's an awe inspiring place. One tiny river carving its way through rock - a sliver here, a micron there. Down the millenia. I need to explore its depths.

For once, I thought of a second response based on the map part of the theme:

I've no compass, or map. The signposts are worn, indistict, confusing. I've no guide, so muddle through my life as a consequence. The shining horizon beckons - promising a better future.