That’s haytor rocks, literally five minutes from where Agatha Christie wrote her first book. Is a lovely place, and certainly very inspirational. Have been there twice, with the aim of resting and being creative. I’d certainly go again.
It’s always interesting where writers go to get inspiration. Where they stay in order to write, be focused and ensure productivity. I made a trip to Paignton in a similar vein to dartmoor. To be beside the sea, and see what creativity happened.
The one day, there was thick rolling fog. Wrong side of the country, but I honestly though it was Dracula weather. Alas, he didn’t turn up, thankfully.
I’ve even ventured to Jamaica Inn. I didn’t feel or see anything spooky, I might add and spent my time there nursing a horrible cold. I’d quite like to go back there too. I’ve read the book, and I can see how it would be atmospheric. Rome has featured in a book; you can find references to it in Fragments. That was a good adventure. I’ve been to Montana since writing stories for the fictional town of Peace. I was saddened in not having found a diner. I did find Biryani, of all things.
Adventuring can colour the soul and help titrate the muse.
Creativity comes in many forms. Over the last 18 months, I’ve been trying build up another avenue, purely for fun, through sip and paint.
Over the last eighteen months, I’ve accrued something of a collection. Last night, I added to it with a technicolour Birmingham Bull, under the watchful eye and tutelage of The Arty Chameleon. Ki is a local artist who regularly holds sip and paint events with acrylics.
Now. I don’t profess to be an expert, or any form of competent artist. These are all very much about being in the moment, enjoying the process and being creative in a different way.
I rather like my Birmingham tryptic, has been created through serendipity and enjoyment. There what is locally termed the Floozy in the Jacuzzi in a cup of typhoo. The Rotunda and St Martins as well as the Birmingham Bull.
There have been a variation of themes and I’ve usually been in the best of company, friends, soul sisters and family, Making it a thoroughly enjoyable, highly recommended experience.
I like them, even though they might not be everyone’s cup of tea. Whilst the chances of these hanging in a gallery are fairly close to zero, never say never. I do have some watercolours too that I’ve found and rather like using them.
Sometimes, just some times, an idea needs to percolate. To brew and unfurl. Imagination has to swirl around and go through a lot of hypothesis testing.
Which is a bit odd, when fiction is meant to be made up but has to be realistic. I suppose that means sticking to tropes and genre characteristics. Sticking to norms and conventions that make a genre what it is.
However, there is change and evolution in writing. No one might blink at the notion of Romantasy. A combination of romance and fantasy, this has seen skyrocketing interest. Of course, there harbingers of romance and there are harbingers of fantasy. I guess we all need to read more and read that which we like.
Anyway, percolation of ideas. The brewing whereby anything goes, and we as readers and writers are open to it.
I’m not all that good at staying in genre-driven lanes. I tend to pick and mix quite a bit. I mean, zombies and dragons come to Birmingham in one part of book catalogue. There’s flash fiction, Greek mythology. Even historical fiction if go find Lady Eleanor and her son, James.
Over the last few years, much of my creative thinking has come when I’ve been knitting. Knitting socks, more specifically.
Knitting and also crochet have been seen to have a profound impact. There’s a growing body of research out there that indicates significant impact upon well being. I feel I can attest to that, having knitted socks since lockdown 1.0.
Knitting is useful to help empty a busy mind, regulate thoughts and systems to think about plots, characters and events. You end up with a sock and possibly a new novel every time. Plus, if you look at a search engine long enough, you’ll find that celebs do it as well.
Ordinarily, be it at work, when blogging, writing; I could waffle. I daresay, I could probably waffle for England. The hitting of a payload, a torrent of words and inspiration, does tend to be hard to stop. I experience it as un-brookable sensation, my brain is aflame with my handwriting only just keeping up with the daydreams wanting exit my imagination.
Words tumble;the whole thing is a emotional, psychological cascade. A torrent of things that might not have even been in my consciousness. To this day, I can’t read bits of Fragments, I remember my own pain.
In stark contrast then, is the barrenness of not writing. The overwhelming swirling of tumbleweed and screeching carrion birds in a desert.
I do have a list. I have a stack, in fact, of notebooks; each one has a list of things to write for that particular creating. So it’s not as though I have a block, as though The Muse-whatever form that creature takes-and I have deserted each other. The Muse has done what needs to be done, and gone off to where ever they are needed.
It is the impetus, the bounce and flow, the mojo that has gone.
At this moment in time, it’s actually difficult to look a the books. The ‘to-write’ lists make no sense to me. They may as well be written in a different language.
I think I need a rest. Life has, after all, been rather busy. Six books, a Bollywood wedding, a diploma in therapeutic counselling are all going to have an effect. As is not being in a stable teaching post. I have done, experienced, been part of one hell of an adventure. It is impossible for me to negate any of that; it has made me the woman, the person, the author that I am.
The diploma is now over-Just waiting for the certificate! I am also thinking, about what the next phase of the counselling journey might involve. No idea what is happening on the teaching front; the end of the summer, would mark ten years as an educator.
That in itself, is special. I want to make it that far! Teaching has also been a journey in it’s own right.
I do feel a loss; as though I should be doing something, However, there is that small voice. The tiniest squeak, that is saying no. Something isn’t right, something hangs in the air; writing is not what I want, need,to do at this moment in time.
This, is voice, that I need to listen to. I also need, somehow, to accept, that the writing is paused. This is horribly difficult, when it has been a part of me for such a long time. I’ve enjoyed it; writing really is a facet of me. The thought of writing rubbish-whatever that might be-also crossed my mind. It’s been dismissed a couple of time. I want to value what I write, I want it to have some importance.
Self-care is the big thing here. To look after myself, nourish the elements within that have become depleted.
Six years. WordPress tells me that I’ve been writing this blog for six years. If this blog was a human, it has probably started school already and hopefully made some friends.
The whole idea of sharing started well before that, in a slightly different place with a slightly different aim. Slightly different in the way it was organised, and how I really didn’t know what I wanted to do. However, here I am; here is the blog.
A lot has been covered in that six years. There have been highs, lows, lots of things in between that have made blogging and the writing process wonderfully human.
This blog was quite literally founded on the seeds of an idea; a gist of which you can find on the About page. I do feel it is important to reflect upon where this blog started, what has been experienced and subsequently where it might go in the future. I do feel that it is evolving and over time things may change.
Highs, there have been a few. Gluts, for one. After three, four, five courgettes, what’s a girl to do? There have been pickles, preserves, the Petal Plonk experiments that will be really very interesting to comeback to. All in all, I’ve cultivated a piece of land that was unloved for a very long time. It was nearly five foot high with weeds when I first took it on. In it’s present state, the allotment does look rather sorry but it has already gone through a great deal. There have been glorious summers, where there has been lots fruit, vegetables, lots of glads, sunflowers and roses. There has been a lot of abundance. There have been both physical and mental benefits too. All in all, the impact of the allotment is very much holistic.
The lows experienced have always been hard to process, to understand but there has always been potential for learning and forward movement. I don’t think I will ever forger the broken cold frame and destroyed polytunnel. Those two things, were like being punched in the gut-my heart tore straight down the middle. Then there is the heavy clay that has meant raised beds. Raised beds that I built myself, much to my Dad’s amusement. I pinched his cross-head screwdriver and got blisters. He then picked up his drill to make sure everything was secure. There are of course Human factors such as work, family, time and energy. This year, I have felt those a great deal. At times, I have put so much on my plate, the allotment has felt very far away. Wheeling Mama F down there in a wheel chair during her post spinal surgery recovery was one of the most surreal things ever. She missed going to my allotment. She has since got her own and loves it.
The gardening, blogging and lots of other communities have been instrumental in helping. You’ll notice the Garden bloggers hashtag in the title; this is more than a homage. It is an acknowledgement of their support, their forum as well as the vibrancy and diversity. I am always surprised by how far the gardening and blogging community stretches and therefore where the blog gets read. I am touched somewhat, that 200 square metres in the middle of England can reach so far a field. There is a pun in there somewhere. At the outset, I relied a great deal on online forums, and this is something that I will not forget.
My own journey behind the blog has been woven in at times. Teaching and counselling training have impacted a great deal on how this blog, how the allotment has developed. There has been writing too. I must admit, that at times there has been a sway towards the writing projects on the blog. That has felt as though it was a big move away, but I stand by that this blog is what triggered that. If it wasn’t for this blog, there’d be no green or yellow books. Therefore, the writing is an extension of this blog; that goes for both the fiction and non-fiction. This blog, the ideas and learning are the umbrella for what I have produced. So my profuse apologies, if you do feel that I have betrayed my green-fingered roots. I have genuinely struggled with whether or not things are so divergent. I like to think of this as configurations, different aspects of me, the blog and everything in between.
It is then only natural to think of the diversification and The Petal’s Potted Preserve Umbrella. There is a lot that goes on here. The essence of the the blog, a shop front amongst other things, an umbrella of gardening, writing, adventuring, mental health and Psychology.
As for future growth, I have no idea. I give up on making plans!! I am thinking about forward movement, of getting things going. That does in part mean looking back to see who far things have come. I have missed writing about my allotment. Sat here, I have set aside a meaty big bit of Counselling diploma work to write this. I will do it, albeit when my mind feels like it. I do have writing projects, and I am learning how to marry those into things. These are bubbling away on the other hob and will no doubt filter into the blog writing.
So, I have a list of things to write on here. I’d quite like to share things that I have experienced over the last year, there’s some gardening stuff that I’d like revisit. I have very much a forward looking view, and that makes me hopeful.
Petal and I are currently on our summer holidays, all two weeks of it. We have already spent a few days floating around Cambridge, by way of having time and just adventuring to a different beyond the borders of Middle England. This has lent itself to sitting in different spaces and writing.
As well as tending to the allotment-as hit and miss as it has been-there has been a parallel project this year of writing another book. This book is a work of fiction, the previous two projects have been non-fiction and allotment orientated. I chose to write fiction for a number of reasons. Firstly, I wanted to; amusing as it is daydreaming and having a smile creep across your face, to put it down onto paper is really quite nice. And it is all on paper, I choose to hand write my stories long hand in ink in my notebook and then type up, prepare them further later on. It does however mean that I have to decipher my rather awful handwriting. Handwriting, that if you ask my mum, makes your eyes go a bit a funny. Second, the current work is about a topic that people might struggle to talk about, to process. I am writing about grief and bereavement, and I guess it is all borne out of having lost the last of my Grandparents just over a year ago. The process in part, is for me a process of reflection and getting a handle on my own experiences. Third, I have written non-fiction, writing fiction is a step beyond my comfort zone. It is a step towards doing something different, it is a step further in an ongoing process of development.
Writing this third book has been very different compared to the first two and it will take the time necessary for it to be where it should be. I am not going to rush it and force daydreams to appear. There have been periods of time where there have been no daydreams, I have written nothing. Yet the plan, over the summer, was to make a dent and to write. So I have been trying.
See, I told you my handwriting was interesting.
The current work in progress is all planned out and there is a distinct start, middle and end. What I need to maintain is a focus and get the job done. This is somewhat difficult, with writing being shoe horned in amongst different aspects of real life.
What you see above, is book three, being written in my notebook. The tea was very useful, and facilitates the process. There is a vague plan, for a book four-that this is probably going to be garden related, in some shape or form. However, there is another idea that has started to niggle at the bag of my brain.
A couple of very good friends and fellow gardeners, had proposed that Petal-the avatar-might have some adventures. This thought was as I said, niggling at the back of my head. Then, I had a day dream as I found myself thinking about. What you see above, is a burst. A rough, unready, just a splatter, segment. I am unsure, uncertain to a great extent, as to where this is going to go. What I can say, is that there will be Petal Petunia-oh, she now has a surname-adventures. I will be thinking and hopefully daydreaming, to grow this initial burst.
I was thinking, about how I might play with this Petal Petunia burst. Only for something advertised by The Big Comfy Bookshop to attract my attention. They were doing something wonderful with the use of Rory’s Story cubes. So with some story cubes now in my possession, I am thinking that these may be useful.
If you get a moment, please go visit the The Big Comfy Bookshop. I have had the pleasure of being sat inside, nursing a big mug of tea and eating cake whilst writing book three. There are not many independent bookshops out there, or book shops that really support the community to encourage and facilitate greatness. Plus being a bookshop, it is a heaven for every Bookworm.
There is a week left of the summer holiday, a second adventure is only hours away. The notebook and pen are stowed away in readiness.
Punam Farmah Author and Filmmaker 