Wednesday, 13 October 2010

bloody blimey crikey ... we pixies grow old just like the humans do - but we stay pretty and minxy and cleverish too xxx

/Wednesday 12 October | Excuses - what lies beneath...

Here are my current list of thinly disguised excuses not to turn up and write.
  • I have to look for work, this is time consuming and soul draining 
  • I'm too tired, because looking for work is time consuming and soul draining and tiring
  • I hate everything I write so the effort to write is not rewarded with any sense of achievement
  • I want to be brilliant, I am just shaving mediocre - this makes me tired and cross
  • I am now too tired and cross to attempt to write
  • I really do need to do the washing up, washing, tidying, filing, putting away first
  • I can't write after 6pm, I've never actually tried, I just feel I can't
  • I'm bored and being bored is not a good place to start to write, it also makes me feel tired
  • Other people are way better than me so there's no point
  • I'll just straighten those cushions before I start
  • I'm too cold, hot, hungry, thirsty, fat* 
  • I can barely bring myself to care, no-one else will, this also makes me feel tired.
On and on the excuses come, tumbling over themselves, pell mell. I like that word pell mell. I also like higgledy piggledy, helter skelter and lickety spit. It's my joy in language that prompts me to write along with the desire to tell stories that make life seem bigger and bolder.

I've been telling stories since I was a kid, only back then it was called lying. I liked to embroider the truth with coloured silks and flashes of gold - to make the telling all the more compelling and to make me seem far more exciting, prettier and way more clever than I believed myself to be.

Monday, 11 October 2010

Monday 11 October | Exercise 12 retelling of a spontaneous story

Sometimes in the morning, I tell Podgey stories to wake him up - they are mainly designed to make him laugh enough so that falling back to sleep is no longer possible. Finding myself in a good mood but without much hope of writing anything 'weighty' today - I thought I might try retelling the story in written form.

Recapturing something that was spontaneous, silly and completely improvised seemed like a worthwhile exercise in writing. I'd say it has been only somewhat successful - and to really work, it would need editing further - time I don't think this little story really deserves... It didn't have a theme this morning - and my attempts to insert some sort of moral colour are clunky at best.

The next couple of posts will be a catch-up affair for completeness sake. I am aware that if I am really despondent about my effort, I demure on the write up. Which is silly and counterproductive.

Permission to fail cap'n Luli...

Permission granted ensign David...

For the tale of Puddington Podge and the enormous fart ...

Monday 11 October | coming to an inbox near you ...

The best bit of today's writing so far - found in an email to a friend... the actual go at writing will follow shortly... but it's a bit on the dissappointing side, so have this for free xx (With apols to KP who on following the link will find her email repeated here - how annoying for you).
While I struggle to write something funny, you flick one off the wrist with effortless charm. I'm torn between grudging admiration and despondent self indulgent gloom. Today started well enough, but like most other dAys it's drifted into time wasting pointlessosity.