Keeping going
For a long time now, possibly years, I’ve been toying with giving up my writing. In any event, lately, I haven’t been writing much at all, and the dismay of my paralysis has been hard to get my head round.
So I’ve tried to ignore this particular patch of desert, to pretend that lockdown and its outcomes do not affect me. Though my situation remains surprisingly similar to what it has always been, the realities of lockdown, with their peculiar mix of worry and resignation, make working on a fictional series about hard-pressed women – and men – rather hard to justify.
Do I need to justify it? Lately, there have been so many good reasons why I should stop writing: I have lots of calls on my time, from my husband, my daughter, my sisters, friends, my mother, even my daughter’s guinea-pigs; but sitting here, crafting and editing my work, I am reminded again that I do sincerely delight in this particular combination of concentration and escapism.
Even when so much of writing seems to be carried out it a private world that feels like a vacuum, how could I excuse a final decision to stop, when writing makes me smile and feel good? I also know that it is one real, tangible thing I do, that my husband sincerely supports. He wants me to keep writing. And I’ve seen how the things that contribute to our happiness and sense of fulfilment make the routines and hardships of life easier to live with. Constructing fictional worlds is the nearest I’ll ever get to time travel; or, at this time, to actual travel, which is another reason why I will be keeping going.
I’m working now on a final edit of my three novels, which though they each stand alone, also represent a series of characters whose lives may work out in so many different ways. I’m almost driven to conclude that my novels are, as they stand, only outlines, scoping out what might happen, never cast in stone.
That I’m keeping going in itself gives me reason to feel celebratory.
Thanks for reading.
Please share:
November 8, 2020 @ 2:42 pm
Hi Fran,
Good to hear from you again. I’ve often thought about you. Do keep writing. Today was my 5th swim at Warrender since lockdown and I’ve been so grateful to get back into the pool again which had been my main form of exercise over the years. Great to meet up with a few pals again. During the plague I’ve taken up leather and bead work to keep myself doing something creative and exercising my fingers. American Indians have an expression, If ya aint bleedin, ya aint beadin. This is quite true. I have the scars on my fingers from the needle punctures. Its important to keep the blood off the leather. I have a stash of leather that my sister Pauline sent to me more than a year ago to keep me busy. Porty is one of our regular visits these days to get a lungfull of fresh air and people watch. There are plenty of crazy diehard people swimming in the cold brown sea and I am not one of them. I wish you big hugs.XXX
November 9, 2020 @ 10:52 am
Dear Tom,
Thanks so much for your message – it’s wonderful to hear what you’ve been up to and read your news. I’m so glad you’ve managed to go swimming. I’ve managed a few weeks riding at the Drum – which is blissful! – and apart from shopping, housework and being with Mum that’s about the extent of my social range at the mo. Not very inspiring, but I’m fairly used to it. Ugh, swimming in the cold brown sea at this time of year?! Amazing. I wish them luck, and send you big hugs too. ((xxx))