I’m sitting in my office. It’s also a spare room. And a gym. Oh and storage facility. I desperately want to write more often, I don’t understand why I make excuses not to. There are significant moments that inspire me every day and significant events that provide fodder for blogging; like birthdays, days out, parenting disasters. Sometimes I make notes, they get lost in my handbag’s abyss, scribbled on by my toddler daughter, or put in ‘the drawer of no return’.
Tonight I am going to a literary festival event near to where I live. It is a talk by Tom Connally, a writer and film maker. The promotional material for the event goes like this: “Tom talks about how he writes; from first idea through to the finished article. He also discusses writing fictional stories rather than memoirs or real events and considers the importance of place and landscape in his work.” I feel as though, hearing this talk will be enough to; a) Give me motivation to write regularly. b) Equip me with any and all skills I might need to become a ‘proper’ writer. I am aware of how high and unrealistic my expectations are, don’t worry. But it might! Katie Glastonbury, ever the optimist. Even this morning when I was locked out of the house, with my car key inside the house, standing on the driveway with two small children and armfuls of stuff ready for the school run – I was happy to find a half eaten chocolate brownie in my bag. Perhaps more pleased than if my keys themselves had actually been in there.
Some fleeting blog ideas I had, included an early evening trip to the beach we had, where in the last light of the day, everything was rose tinted. Hastings beach was in a wild and romantic mood. Murray (the golden doodle) galloped all the way from the carpark, over the pebbles and into the sea, at top speed. He got muddled up in a big, heavy, crashing wave and came running away from the sea with the expression of one who has had a few to many drinks and doesn’t quite know what is what. He did continue to run in and out of the water, but with a new sense of trepidation. We all threw stones into the water. My husband tried to skate smooth flat pebbles across the top of the water, but the breaking waves were too frequent. So he and my son wanted to see how far they could throw the stones. Each time my son looked up at his dad and asked ‘Did you see that one dad?’. And each time my husband threw one far out, he looked at me, with that same childish craving for someone to have witnessed his effort. So cute.
In case you’re wondering why each paragraph is about something completely different, it is because each paragraph has been written on a different day. Can you imagine how long it would take me to write a book! (And how nonsensical it would be). Today’s inspiration comes from an hour and twenty minute drive home from Medway to East Sussex, listening to Spotify through the car stereo. The first track we listened to was the Circle of Life from The Lion King musical. We like to listen to our favourite songs loud. The beginning is rhythmic African chanting, it is incredibly evocative. (I would love to find more music like it to listen to). And while we were listening to it, we saw a huge rainbow out of the window, and it followed us for the duration of the song. It was magic. Fern said ’It has all my favourite colours in it, Mummy’. George said ‘When there is a rainbow, can the whole world see it?’. My heart swells. Later when we’re driving through more rural roads, with bright green, delicate baby leaf canopies high above the road, creating what my son has always called ‘tree tunnels’… we see carpets of bluebells for at least a mile. Then a field with some spring lambs, it almost couldn’t be a more beautiful drive and then George says ‘Mummy, when I run very, very fast sometimes the wind helps me to fly a tiny bit and in my dream I had, I ran so fast and lifted up into the wind and I could really fly’.
Let me know in the comments something magical, cute or funny you have heard a child say. Have a great week xo