Assignment one of Writing Short Fiction is now making its way through the wilds of the internet. It’s been a bit of a slog, mainly because my body and brain haven’t taken kindly to my asking too much of them. But it’s gone. Hoorah!
Despite my general disgruntlement with O.C.A., I’ve learned a lot from this first part of the course, and feel that I’ve developed a more positive outlook to my work, which is a delight after the way I’ve been feeling for the last couple of months. I’ve written a new piece for the assignment, which I feel tentatively happy with (until it is scrutinised by my tutor of course), and which I know I worked hard on. Pushing my characters to develop their own voice doesn’t always come easily, but I feel I have with this piece. In many ways, things are looking up.
I’ve also been doing a bit of planning and organising, and a bit of reflection on the summer.
Those of you who follow me on Instagram or Facebook will know I’ve been a bit obsessed with my tiny cutting garden over the last few weeks. It’s given me so much joy. I love having flowers in the house anyway, and the fact that I’ve grown these beauties from seed makes it extra special. I’ve also realised that the more I cut them the more they bloom, and the stronger the plant becomes. Hmm……… I wonder a if there is anything I could learn from this? I realise I’ve over stretched myself this summer, for fear of disappointing people, or simply because so very many days alone does make me a little lonely. I don’t feel strong, and I don’t feel like I’m blooming. The first thing to suffer is writing, because dear old brain fog rears its fuzzy head, and hands that do dishes seem unable to do much else. I need to cut away a few of the terribly enticing flowers so I’ve got time to do the thing that really does make me stronger. Unfortunately I have little self discipline, and hate missing out on the fun. I hate making sensible decisions.
A mixed couple of weeks all in all, the last days of summer are looming, which always makes me sad, but Autumn with its poetic gifts and pies and stews will no doubt cheer me up.
Until then, here’s some more flowers.