Hello!
Hej Hej!
Dobry den!
I’m so excited to see you here! Or at least, I’m excited to imagine that you might be here, at some point after I press publish, then wish I hadn’t, then accept the fact that I have, feeling much like someone that has just accidentally sent a email to the only person they know that wouldn’t find it funny.
So, onwards! Have I mentioned to you that I’ve started writing a book? I’ve even entered the planned deadlines into my Outlook calendar, which was a great waste of an hour considering I never actually use my Outlook calendar. But it felt officious and productive, and if I was actually able to check what dates I’d set to be finished certain portions of the book, it would tell me that today I am to be finished with the chapter break down.
Do you remember in Primary School, the idea of planning being hammered into us? I remember not being allowed to write anything fictitious in class without first dedicating the front sheet of A4 paper to an outline of my intended storyline. I’ll admit that mine usually consisted of such thrilling condensed narrative as ‘boy will wake up, boy will do a thing, boy will go to sleep’. My teacher, Mrs Martin, did not find this amusing, and told me off for not trying, when in fact the truth was I was just so eager to start trying the actual writing part of the task that I usually scribbled the plan down at the end, as everyone else was leaving class.
Once, when I was in Primary six, I think, an author came to visit the school. We had been reading a book of his in class, about a boy and an injured racing pigeon, but it transpired early in his talk that what he really loved writing was his series of children’s books about little clay dragons that came alive, and also polar bears. This of course interested us far more than an injured pigeon ever could, and he could tell, so he talked about that mostly, with Mrs Martin in the background, occasionally trying to bring the conversation back around to something pertaining to what we had been doing in class. Coincidentally, we had been writing stories all week, with particular emphasis on planning, and seeing how much the children liked this charming, bumbling, author, she thought he would make a great example to us of how ‘real writer’s’ write, and asked him, ‘so tell us, how long do you spend planning one of your novels before you start , and how have you gone about planning a whole series?’. He answered very honestly, and much to my teachers dismay, that he didn’t plan, didn’t see the need and didn’t find it useful in the slightest. He obviously saw my teacher see red, though, and quickly added that of course it’s a very useful tool for most people, just not for him. And that we should all do it. The damage was done however. I though he was much cooler than my teacher (he wrote books about dragons!) , so I listened to him. And therefore, never learned to plan.
Now, it has become apparent to me over the last few years that it is, in fact, necessary for me to plan if I want to actually finish writing something long-ish. But, I find it difficult. So as I spend the rest of my day flitting between finishing said plan and writing an essay about the parting of the ways between Judaism and Christianity, I won’t be at all surprised if the plan suddenly involves more covenants that I had originally intended it to, and my essay involves more narrative tension. Will they part ways after all?!?!?! Find out next week…
Post Script – Upon further reflection, the Author has realised that perhaps the title of this post is less relevant than it could have been, as we are neither going back into known territory, nor are we anywhere near the town of Harfleur. However, she is choosing to stick by it. Also, that picture is not mine, it belongs to the-tabalarium on tumblr, I believe. My dragons are far less recognisable.
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