Mentoring update

April has been quite the month. I’ve been flying high from inspirational mentoring and also experienced one of my worst episodes of PEM (post exertional malaise) for around 12 months. I should be used to these extremes by now, but they never fail to knock and shock me.

Let’s begin with the mentoring. I have gained so much from these sessions. I feel a difference in my body when I think about my writing. I no longer feel quick of breath and anxious – I feel I breathe to my stomach, pull myself up and, to quote the 2010s “own it”. I don’t feel embarrassed about trying, I don’t feel that I have to be a certain type of poet to be successful, and I have a clear sense of who I am and where I want to be. There will be hiccups and setbacks, but I’m very used to dealing with those, and having a sense of ownership means I can tackle any setbacks head on, rather than spiralling into thinking “I’m a terrible writer I should just give up”.

Writing and wellbeing

I realise this is the thing that drives me as a poet. Poetry and song lyrics have been my strength throughout my life, and the value of poetry for mental well-being cannot be underestimated. On of my goals over the next year is to develop a series of writers workshops specifically designed to manage and enhance mental well-being. Learning to stop and look, to consider emotion and to express those emotions is a powerful and valuable thing. I’m laying the groundwork through research, and you’ll find a series of articles about writing and well being on my Substack.

There is value in time spent writing

Another huge step has been to release myself from feeling I had to keep my foot in the door of the content writing industry. I genuinely enjoy content writing and spent a while mourning the loss of regular income (and goodness I still do). I also realised that the world of the kick ass copywriter is not for me. The endless round of applying for jobs I’m not really qualified for (marketing is a very different animal to writing) is quite a task and undoubtedly soul destroying especially given that the modern way seems to be to just ignore unsuccessful applicants. I ended the first quarter of the year feeling washed up and useless.

The timing of my mentoring could not have been better. I bought the sessions with money I had for my 50th birthday, intending to start in the new year. After the loss of Dad, I simply didn’t feel I’d do the sessions justice and Wendy kindly allowed me to postpone. The first session began with the magic question “what do you want from your writing”. What do I want ? When did I last even consider that? Like many people I am so bound up in meeting the needs of others that “what I want” rarely enters my head and when it does it is swiftly despatched. Wendy writes about this extensively in her latest article How to give yourself permission to write, which is well worth a read. The concept isn’t restricted to writing either – this way of thinking can be applied to anything you love to do but don’t feel able to make room for. I’m almost at the end of my mentoring month and one of the overarching results is that I feel confident enough in my own work to give it priority and protect my creative time.

Commercial ventures as a writer

I do however still need to generate some income. The few hours of content writing I could do was never going to make me rich, but it did bring a little extra cash our way. Part of my new found confidence in my own work means I am refocused a couple of commercial ventures. I have written, designed and printed a series of botanical greetings cards, inspired by the language of flowers and illustrated by Maggie Cameron. Learning about dots per inch, printing quality, bleed boxes and other terms I never knew I’d need to understand has been quite a challenge, but I’ve done it and am really pleased with the results. The cards are available from me, and our fabulous local florist Nettie of the Gorge.

I’ve also relaunched my Bespoke Poetry service. Spending time researching what others offer, finding where my work and style will fit has taken a little time, but it’s been time well spent. I had my first external order this week, and I loved creating something that will be part of such an important day. I feel like one of those people I read about in magazines who find a new life after 50.

This month marks ten years since my diagnosis with M.E. I am astonished at where I am now. It’s really hard, I’m still pretty poorly most of the time. Writing has given me an identity, and a reason to keep seeking a place in the world. Creating workshops to support others, and writing work that connects with people gives me a sense of value that felt impossible when I first fell ill. Here’s to keeping going.

I leave you with these beautiful words about Dust. It’s a year since we successfully crowdfunded the project. I’m proud of this book for so many reasons, and none more important than responses like this.

Advertisement

I’m writing again

And it feels wonderful. I’m part of a group delving into folklore and witchery as part of The Corn Dolly Speaks it’s a course which sparks my imagination and sends me off on merry research missions that spark it even more. I’m reading some amazing poetry, working with amazing people and feel excited by writing for the first time in a while.

I’ve been looking forward to this so much. I’d set my mind that I wanted to refocus on my work this autumn and this first week has proved positive. I have a schedule for going through my notebooks, planned time to explore submissions and I’m saving hard to afford some mentoring for what may be a new pamphlet next year. This feels like new year for me.

And perhaps it is. Working on Dust has taken more from me than perhaps I realised. Not so much the writing, but the fund raising, self promotion (thank you so much to everyone who’s joined my FB and Instagram campaigns) which never sits well has taken quite a lot from this old introverted psyche.

On the other hand working on this project has given me a huge amount. The sense of “I’ve done this” is hard to ignore. Realizing that I can collaborate with others to come up with something that really does what we hoped it would is fantastic. Reading the words of people who’ve got in touch to say that the work has moved them and even helped them with their own experience of grief, or the people who’ve just got in touch to say “well done”has had a huge impact on how I feel about putting my work (and by default my self) out into the world.

I’m reading a lot about Anglo Saxon tradition and understanding of the wheel of the year, how summer finishes so quickly, with winter coming in fast behind. There is something grounding about realising that our response to the seasons has barely changed and reading Eleanor Parker’s stunning book is a real joy. I’ve started reading a section each morning and the things I learn before even my first cup of tea are wonderful.

I usually dread this period just before Christmas – it’s been a grim countdown to the worst anniversaries for several years. I feel different this year. More understanding. More accepting. Peaceful, despite the absolute chaos going on in the outside world. I’m writing again and somehow that makes things feel alright. Bearable. Hopeful, even.

Anniversaries, new roles, new homes

It’s around four years since I began this blog, published my first tentative post. I feel like I’ve come a long way – not in terms of whistles and bells but in terms of belief in and acceptance of myself. This is a decent place to be – there are wobbles of course, some startlingly dramatic, but I’m proud that I’ve stuck at this, despite the knock backs, and ups and downs of exposing my work (and my heart) to the world. This aspect will always be unnerving, but as I said in my very first bio I’m a better person when I write, and for me, writing comes alive when it is read by others. There is no better feeling in the world than someone saying they love something I have written. Writing helps me manage change, clarify emotion and tap into my absolute love of sound and rhythm. It also taps in to

I’m writing this looking over my beloved patch of woods that may soon be someone else’s view. This is a sad feeling but change is sometimes essential, even if it is forced by the actions of another. Fingers crossed where ever we go next will be as full of passerine chatter and eerie night screeches.

Woodland complete with cat.

Slivers of sadness are tempered beautifully with excitement at a new role. I’ve been appointed as a columnist for a new magazine called Spelt, the brainchild of the wonderful Wendy Pratt. Here’s how she describes it

Spelt Magazine is on a mission to celebrate and validate the rural experience. With four seasonal print issues per year, we aim to provide a platform for rural writers and to those creatives exploring nature, landscape, the interconnected nature of creative writing and the natural world and the liminality of natural areas within the urban landscape.

Wendy Pratt – Founder of Spelt Magazine

This ties in with a nagging feeling I’ve had for some time – that writing about rural life is somehow unfashionable, that real poets write about gritty urban landscapes and lives lived with theatrical edge. Whist this pattern of thought says more about me, and that I need to have respect for my own writing, I have a strong feeling that Spelt is going to chime with many people who feel a little alienated by the popular portrayal rural existence – and hungry to tell of it’s  reality. The content of my columns has to remain secret (how exciting!) but it’s fair to say this is a wonderful opportunity to be part of something I really believe in.

This past week has brought a little more regular writing too – I’m taking inspiration from Susie Dent’s Word Perfect a fabulous book that brings a new word to each day. Every morning I encounter a new word and write a small, possibly (definitely) silly poem. It’s a fun, brain oiling, start to the day.

I’m trying to develop a strong routine which allows balance between paid work, poetry and managing my health – it’s going ok; I’m breaking my work down into smaller chunks, and trying to be strict with myself about keeping one day aside for all things poetry related. Early starts are my friend and give me more workable hours. At the moment I’m gathering a few poems for submission to magazines, and anxiously waiting to hear about my pamphlet, as well as spending my day-to-day writing copy for various agencies and companies.

It almost feels as though I may actually be able to call myself a writer. Which is all I’ve ever wanted to be; I just never knew what it looked like. Turns out it’s someone who writes.

Sending hopeful wishes to all – spring is round the corner.

Kathryn xx