Today has been a very important

....day!  I did no writing, but that's OK.  Because I've just read somewhere about the value of non-writing time!

It's where you're collecting information, eavesdropping on conversations, assimilating experiences, observing the world, listening to the rain, smelling the daffodils (do you think Wordsworth ever did that?), stroking the purring cat, tasting the garlic bread, recording your dreams, savouring hot showers, and reading good books.

You see, all this non-writing time is immensely valuable!  There's so much to do!  So much to get done!

Not to mention the washing up, the tidying, the day to day ordinary workload, the socialising... etc.  And gazing at the new notebooks I bought of course.  And playing with the tissue paper!

So, the rain has been singing in languages I don't understand; the daffodils have been delicately fragrant, and I wish I could bottle it and sell it; I haven't been on any trains of late in order to eavesdrop, or in any cafes either; the cat liked having his tummy tickled until he clawed me in his rolling-over-excietment; the garlic bread was green - with parsley, I might add - and deliciously garlicky, no vampires round me for a week at least; dreams about being on stage and forgetting my lines, again; long hot showers after cold rainy day, nothing better; 'The Help' by Kathryn Stockett - fab fab fab book!

Experiences assimilated: 42
Words written: 0

Poignant Day

I was re-reading my old diaries today, from when I was a teenager.

Honestly - don't feel like I've changed a whole lot in many ways!!!

I came across a section where I was talking about how difficult it was to write a short script for TV.  I don't remember the process at all, though I do remember the story I was trying to write.  Just about.  I wonder if I still have a draft of it somewhere.

I wrote how I showed the story to my English teacher - gosh, that was brave of me.

And at the back of my diary, there it was; my very first rejection letter.  From all those years ago.

It was a very nice rejection letter, in as much as these things can be.   It really was.  I didn't think such things existed.  But the letter said how I'd dealt with difficult subject matter with a lot of sensitivity, and they were sorry they couldn't take it any further. 

And suddenly, I couldn't stop crying, having read that.  I mean, really, it was a lovely rejection letter, to send a 15 year old, in response to her first script.  To be recognised as a sensitive soul by a complete stranger, at that age.  Very moving!

Unless of course, that's what they said in all their rejection letters!

Words written: 0
Diaries re-read: 1
Tears cried: a fair few

Day 11

No Writing

The white page froze me out.

The blank screen was scarier

than monsters in the cupboard

and under the bed.

The lack of black squiggles

on white expanse

like virgin snow

quilting the world,

wrapped my pen in stillness

foggied up my mind,

kept the keyboard

deep with dust. 

Words written: 0

All is well: perhaps tomorrow I will write!

Are we on Day 10 yet?

Today I wrote a poem!  I did, I did, I did!!!!  I think I did anyway.  Maybe it wasn't a poem!

Maybe it was just a scrawl that was only worthy of the bin!

Maybe it was a bit of prose, that looks like a  poem - maybe it's in disguise!  How can one tell?

Maybe it was someone else's poem, and I'm remembering it from somewhere else, like another life time perhaps!  Or perhaps I channelled it from the spirit world, so it's only half mine?  Or not at all!

It's about the moon.  No, it isn't.  It's about lighting candles on a moonlit night.  No, that's not it either.  It's about a girl who is waiting for her life to begin.  Nope.  It's about a girl who thinks her life is over, and she's waiting to be re-born.  Nope, that's not quite it either.  It's about a girl who is missing a boy.  No, that's so cliche!

But, it's the kind of story everyone can relate to I guess.

It's about a girl who is aggrieved by her parents.  Nope, that's not quite it either.  It's actually about a pond, at night, with no mention of frogspawn whatsoever, and some candles are lit.  That's it.  Kind of.  Not really!

Anyway, whether it's a poem or not, and whether it's prose or not, and whether I'll ever type it up or show it to anybody.....  it matters not!  I LOVED WRITING IT!

And that's all that counts - isn't it???

Words written, I think: 65
Enjoyment of writing: 100%
Confidence in it being a poem: 10%

All is well, perhaps tomorrow I'll write some more!

Day 9 - whirlpools

Do you think that Wordsworth ever stopped to smell the daffodils?

I'm getting lost in whirlpools, where words don't really exist. 

But I thought about the daffodils he saw, the imprint on his mind, when he was feeling blue but wanted to feel more yellow...

And I've been bending down to daffodils in different hills, in the morning, at midday, at night, and breathing in  - and in -  and deeper, that fine delicate scent they have.  Imagine fresh clean clothes, it's like that, but more refined, and somehow prettier. 

If there was a perfume of daffodil, I'd buy shelf loads of it.  It's heaven to the nostrils; but you must stay with it; it requires your time.  You can't expect to breathe it all in, in one gulp, like beer.  It takes time to detect it, time to stay with it, time to appreciate it, like a fine wine.

So, only kneel and give reverence to the daffodil if you have time to spare; it will show the fragrance of angels; if you wait - wait - wait and if you stay - stay - stay.

But soon the daffodils will be gone.  The primroses are already taking over, and the tulips.  I love these too.  But I will mourn the scent of these splashes of sunshine on the earth, till they come again, next spring.

Words written: 0
Daffodils smelt: 16

Day 8 (I caught up with the counting!)

Words written: 0
Hours surfing on net: 5


Was surfing away today, on the web and came across this, in response to the Cave Rescue group interview technique that some employers like to indulge in.  The employer watches the candidates decide who should be rescued and who should be left to die.  They are given a few details as to each person stuck in the cave - age, gender, occupation, criminal record.

I thought about writing a story based on the characters given, but then read the message below and couldn't think of anything to write afterall!

Perhaps I should write about the interview that so obviously went wrong for this person!  Perhaps tomorrow!




Don't rescue any of them!

---

Tell the employer it's a completely redundant exercise, as it's totally unrealistic.

It's an affront to your moral standing, as you do not wish to play God as regards who lives or dies and tap into the collective guilt that today's society fosters, whereby you'll berate yourself for the next couple of days as to who should and shouldn't be resuced and what this says about you as a person, and your judgements on people.

And it can't possibly reflect your best qualities when it comes to dealing with work colleagues, because at work, every member of the team will have a definitive role and duties assigned them, and you'll have a much better idea as to each colleague's responsiblities and qualities.

And when your work team do get together you won't ever be discussing how to get several people out of cave, and who will die, so the whole thing is pointless and a complete waste of everybody's time, and if the employer can't be bothered to set up a fair activity that enables people to show their best qualities as regards a specific job, then they shouldn't bother at all.

This approach may very well not get you the job, but would you really want to work for a company that was so faulty in their interview techniques anyway?!

Next Day - I've lost count already!

Today I had ideas!!!  Lots of ideas as to what to write!

I reached for the turquoise note-book and started...

The blossom is raging
The grass is joyfully crying tears of dew
The yew is being solid.... no, no, no, no, no!

Raging tower of Blossom
joyfully reaching for the sky

Grass is sunshine smiling
weeping dew to a new day

Yew tree is shading the graves
of very long ago.... no, no, no, no, no!


Sky blossom joy
Dew grass smiles
Yew stands still.... no, no, no, no, no!

Words written: 55
Words crossed out: 49

Not bad, not bad!  Things are improving in the world!

Tomorrow I may write more!  Tomorrow I may write something good!