Metaphorical Washing.

I’1039592_10154807550760556_8390107489106098436_ove been writing constantly since the end of University last month, but at the same time, I’ve written nothing.

It’s all been for work, you see.

The writing I’ve done has been to order: over 13,000 words in the last month, no less.  It’s been great (no really it has), and involved all sorts of interesting topics and creative treatments, but at the expense of my own projects and creative treatments.

Neglecting my projects results in a niggly feeling which is a bit like when you’ve left the washing on the line, and it’s getting dark and probably drizzly… but this and that conspire to stop you bringing it in.  It’s bothersome.  I occasionally leave real washing on the line overnight actually, admitting defeat and hoping the following day is less chaotic.  It’s not a great strategy for housekeeping and a truly crappy one for writing.   Unlike housekeeping, writing my own stuff makes me happy.  When it becomes  neglected I feel sad.

I’ve been largely house-bound too; LJF and I attended the Birmingham Shooting People/Indie Film Meet at the start of the month and had a go at touting a few of our scripts (some thoughts on that may follow), but other than that I’ve not been able to get out in the way I would like.  I missed a public event at BCU due to pressures of work and I shall miss the Writer’s Toolkit at the end of the month which is a shame (although that’s in part due to a small person’s birthday), but the whole thing has a certain déjà vu about it all.  This is exactly the situation I was in before I started University and here we are again. I’ve always done pretty well to squeeze personal writing into the gaps but my MA showed me how much easier it is when you have some time and space.

Because I saw this current soggy washing situation coming a bloody county mile off I have my contingency in place, or nearly so.  I’ve been formalising a few tax and legal things to clarify what I do and for whom, my work hours have been rejigged and childcare correspondingly re-organised.

I bought time.

The lease is neeearly signed for the sunny little studio in The Custard Factory which I’ll be sharing with a couple of others from 5th January 2015 for six months, maybe more.  I’ve talked about the positive benefits of collaboration and company but there is so much more to it than that.

I bought space.

Of course as Sean Bean as that elf bloke would say “one does not simply sign an office lease.”  OK maybe he didn’t say it in precisely those terms…  It would be an understatement to say that any of the above has been simple.  None of the above is simple.  I am very highly motivated to get it all sorted because I know I will stand a better chance of writing the things I like and that will make me happy.

There’s a long list of things I want to do with this precious resource, and a ha, in the tradition of all literary pursuits a shortlist too.  At the very least I want to go through and enhance The Challah Tin, get a sequel for Carrier down in draft and have a crack at the short format in both prose and script.

I’m really looking forward to it.  It will give me a chance to, um…  get my metaphorical washing in I guess.

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