the life of a 60-something woman who lives in Wales

Category: writing

Self what now?

Self expression: The expression of one’s personality : assertion of one’s individual traits. And there, I’ve been managing to crush my self expression for all these years. Really push it down as far as I can, stamp it down even further. I learned early on to never, ever express myself, my feelings, my thoughts and never my opinions. Doing so would lead to vicious violence at the far end, and ridicule at the lower end.

Over the years I have tried sometimes, to drag myself up from the bottom of the self expression box and, well, express myself. In fiction, writing what I came to realise was in the “weird” genre. But finding that no one, absolutely no one, wanted to read anything I had written. I remember the last writing class I went to before the lockdown. Around ten people around the table, with the tutor. As each person read, there was a little applause, a lot of “oh well done”. It came to my turn, and I read my story. No applause, no “well dones”. The tutor said, yes, well, next. And that was it. I never went back to that class.

I want to write, oh I so want to write. And I know I should just write for myself. But the point of writing is to share it with others. Otherwise it might as well just live rent-free in my head, where I can enjoy it and more importantly, understand it. There is no point in writing it all, and there is a novel waiting around the corner. No point at all if no one else is interested. I mean, no one reads this blog.

So I stamp it well down and jump on it if I have to, to make sure not one little bit is visible. Self expression is a trap and a snare, and is not to be trusted. In the meanwhile, bland, smiling, letter writing, and nothing brave or creative shows. I’m not stupid.

Rebel without a plot

So, I’m a rebel. A rebel without a plot! Nanowrimo officially starts on november 1. It’s the same date every year; can’t be mistaken. But I am starting….well, I’ve started today. So far I’ve written 630 words of the first chapter of “The Iron Butterfly”. And you know what? I’m proud to be a rebel!

There is a reason behind my rebellion. Last year, Nanowrimo began on the day my Mother died. I got on with my novel, starting a week late. But it was very difficult, especially as the theme of my novel was motherhood. How I got through it, only my counsellor and I know. I was full up with anger, grief and bewilderment. How could my Mother just die? I don’t want to get into that here though. I probably don’t need to say it but I will, this year’s official start is going to be a tad tricky too as it will be the first anniversary of Mum’s death. Also, P and I are going to Barcelona one week in november. So I decided to be gentle to myself and allow myself to start early, to make up for the week that I will not be writing.

And that is why I am a Nanowrimo rebel. I was very glad to see that rebellion is sanctioned at the Nano site, with a forum devoted to us. I remember one year I stated my intention to go on with something I had already started, and wished I hadn’t as I was told that I was a cheater, a rotten cheater and I was probably in the habit of snatching sweets away from little children and running away laughing as well. It was so nasty that I avoided nano for a couple of years. This year, I see that accusations of cheating are frowned on.

Rebel without a plot? Hah, I’ve started writing with nothing more than a vague idea and a first sentence. To my delight, the first scene has just flown along. I doubt it will always be this easy, but perhaps this will be fun this year and not so much a grim, do or die, neck or nothing, gritted teeth race to the end of the month.

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