Reading Time: 3 minutes

I have missed writing like this.

 

I let my last blog lapse without fanfare several months ago when it had been languishing and I didn’t see the point in renewing the domain name. There were probably one or two people who noted its absence (hi Mum!) but otherwise, it was kind of a relief to have jettisoned it and also expunged the years of musings from ready online access (I do keep meaning to comb back through those archives to see whether there was anything worth keeping, but so far I haven’t bothered). Occasionally I felt like writing something a bit more long-form, and noticed creative friends setting up newsletters or substacks or patreons, but I didn’t think I could really sustain something like that.

But I have started writing again. Fiction, I mean. And poetry too. And I want to write about it, about creativity, about process, about opportunities, about ideas.

This is A Big Deal. I haven’t wanted to write for so long. Actually, correction, I’ve wanted to write but just not had the motivation or the energy to do so.

But a few ideas have been germinating in the back of my mind, and when I mentioned them to C, he was determined that I should work on them. I caught him and my mum talking about how important it was that I get back to writing (hi Mum!) and although I write for myself and not for others, the fact that people wanted me to, and talked about it like it was as vital as breathing for me made me sort of wake up.

This is the thing you have always wanted to do. There are so many creative things you can do that bring you joy and satisfaction, but this is the one that you’ve wanted to do since you first learned to read!

Have I been too scared to try? After a promising start in my 20s, with a handful of publications and a Varuna fellowship and a Master’s degree under my belt, I just…stopped. I have joked that it’s because academia killed my mojo, but that can’t be entirely true.

Is it really fear of failure? That’s quite sad, and rather ridiculous.

So I dusted off Scrivener (and found a whole bunch of half-finished things in the backup files that were…actually not that bad), bought a delightfully clacky keyboard that I have decided to use just for writing (a bit of a conceit, but it’s pink and fun and quirky, and so different from the sleek, functional silver keyboard that I use for work), was given a beautiful pen and notebook by C for my birthday and have been trying to write.

It’s slow going, and I have to keep talking myself back into it. But it feels like one of those restoration TikToks I’ve become rather fond of. My writing ability feels like some almost unrecognisable relic, covered in rust and grime, with parts that are stiff or broken, that someone has discovered at a jumble sale. Painstakingly, the rust is cleaned off, each detail is restored, and eventually, the relic is revealed to be a delightful, functioning, and beautiful object.

I have enrolled in Anne Lamott’s writing workshop online this weekend. Given that Bird by Bird was such an encouragement when I was a young writer, it seems fitting that she will help me ease back into this world.

Feel free to follow along if you want. This blog will be mostly about writing stuff, inspiration, quotes, things I’m working on (unlike the previous blog, which was more journaly). I’ll post on socials when I have a new post up, or you can subscribe below for email notifications. You know, if you want.