a little history

I think ideas are a bit like buses: they all come together in a bunch and you can’t catch them all, and then there isn’t another one along for ages.

Perhaps I could follow that conceit a little farther and talk about double-decker ideas, which have more layers and more space to explore than others, or articulated ideas where one connects directly on to another: the first is essential as that’s where the engine is, but it’s incomplete without the second part.
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things to think about

On the subject of inspiration – and where to find it – there are many variations on the idea that, “If I knew where ideas came from, I’d go and live there.” But I think every writer has their own source, or sources, of inspiration; one of mine is my email spam folder.

I used to get many more unsolicited offers, but now they just get filtered off and I seldom even see them. I checked the other day, though, and it was just as much fun as I remembered.
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coming up empty

They say that one of the best ways to actually ensure you carry out a commitment is to make it public, which is presumably why there is always so much fuss and discussion of New Year’s resolutions: the theory is that if you tell everyone you’re giving up drinking or going on a diet, etc., you’ll lose face if you fail to follow through.

Perhaps it’s true, too, that if you make your aspirations public and tell everyone how high you are aiming, they may be supportive and try and help you achieve your aims.
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words, words, words

Usually when I go somewhere different, I come back with lots of photographs I can use on the blog.

lights and reflections

This weekend, though, I have been away at a conference. I took very few photos, but have returned with my mind awash with words.
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creative grit

The guy at the pub is right: poems are hard.

Sometimes you have a great idea – the tiny bit of grit with potential to grow into a beautiful pearl – but however much you turn and tweak and worry it, it seems to refuse to gather form and realise its potential.

When this happens, all you can do is put the notes to one side and let your subconscious go on working while you get on and do other things.
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skeletons in the archive

Once more, I’ve sat down at the computer without any idea of what to write. I don’t think I’ve ever really worried about suffering with writer’s block, but often days and weeks go by without any new ideas surfacing.

One reason for continuing with this blog is that it forces me to write something, even if it’s just re-posting a poem from the past; it makes me dig out an image or two to go alongside and forces me to combine words and ideas into some form of logical structure, some kind of complete unit: essentially, it reminds me that however little new creative writing I am doing, I still consider myself a writer.
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blank

I came across some old photos yesterday, which is just as well, as my mind is a blank and at least they give me something to post.

rubbish strewn street.
I have been meaning to write this post since yesterday morning and the few thoughts I’ve had are rubbish.
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