Finding my way back
On not writing and falling back in love with life
Hi you,
I’m not going to lie, everything is not great, I’m not doing great. It’s not the weather, it’s not the season, it’s been going on for a while now. It started somewhere in late July (which I would expect as summer is not my season, there’s too much light and not enough darkness) and it’s got worse at the end of September. If I would have to put it into words, I’d say that I don’t like my life right now.
When I looked back to check when I was the happiest, to the time when I liked my life very much, I realised that it was when I was writing daily. At the end of November last year I’ve started co-writing with brilliant Katie Anderson-Morrison. This is when I started coming to my room every morning and write. Just sitting at my desk, turning the Forest app on and writing for at least an hour. This made me smile more and the world was so much more beautiful.
And then I found a job, which kept me from writing every morning as it was full-time. I’ve resined (for different reasons), went back to writing daily, but the spark wasn’t there. I was busy looking for another job and it kept my mind occupied and there wasn’t much good coming out of me. And that’s when my trips upstairs, to the attic, became more and more sporadic. This is where I found myself doubting my path again.
I’m not a writer, I will never be who I want to be - these thoughts were getting louder. I couldn’t dace the page. I couldn’t face myself not being able to put my thoughts on the screen. Even now, while I’m writing this to you, I want to delete every word I’ve written till now and just go, lie down on the sofa, read a book and sulk.
I have a job now that, at least on paper, gives me space to write every day. I could be here, in this room, writing in the mornings, before I go to work. I have time, I should have the peace of mind to write. And still the words are not coming. Something is not right.
I want to like my life again. I want to be in love with it. So I need to find my way back to the page. I need to write to feel good about my life. I need to sit at my desk every day and stare at the page. This is my must, something I want so badly that not doing it makes me miserable.
Let me know how you’re doing.
P.S. This letter in unedited as I didn’t want to risk not sending it at all.
In ‘I Capture the Castle’ (which you know I love) there is a writer who isn’t writing. His daughter locks him in a ruined tower with a bedstead and a typewriter and tells him to JUST WRITE. She says something like ‘write anything! If you can’t think of anything write “the cat sat on the mat”. You just have to start.’ (Apologies to the spirit of Dodie Smith for my no doubt terrible paraphrasing). Though I can’t actually lock you in a tower, I am going to heavily suggest that you write with me tomorrow, even if you just write ‘the cat sat on the mat’, like in ‘I Capture the Castle’ (which, spoiler alert, ends up being much more meaningful than his daughter realised).