Stocks, hair-shirt, or ‘work on my self?’ The latter feels like a very modern euphemism for the former two, but without the bite or accountability. I see it used a lot on Instagram posts and it feels to me like performative contrition, displayed by a public figure who has done something really shitty and is trying to claw back reputation, relationship or revenue. A promise to ‘work on myself’. A sorry for my past failings. A guarantee to do better.
So what did I do wrong? Nothing much – no inappropriate texts or photos foraged from the bin of the internet. No loose lips, no sinking ships. I just haven’t done much writing. I have been ‘filling the well’ in a bell tent in Somerset, feeling elemental, alternating my gaze between a firepit and the starlit sky. Taking a real time vicarious journey with the storm-casters, herbalists and wizards who advertise their services on little cards in dusty windows in Glastonbury. Braving the compostable nature of campsite toilets. A real whoosh for the soul.
But not much writing for someone who set up anew a week ago with the verve and determination to get creative, productive and find accountability from the faceless wave of wordpress clickers. Sorry about that.
I’ve been thinking about why I write, if that counts? Primarily because it’s a question that I wish I knew the answer to and I think I do, but have always shied away from as it would require vulnerability to answer. And why choose vulnerability when there’s jokes? Jokes abound. Glennon Doyle said that she writes to say ‘here I am’. Elizabeth Gilbert writes because she thinks there is nothing better or more important for her to do. And I like both of these because they’re not connected to a message or a need to change the world. I don’t have that – not at the moment, not yet. And I struggle with seriousness at the best of times, so the idea of serious, heavy writing, laden writing – well it’s either I don’t feel up to it or I don’t have it in me, or both.
I write to feel better. To fill in the edges of my world. Like those tablets/creams/apparatus that guarantee you to be twelve percent sexier/healthier/more focussed if you use them. Yeah, that’s me and writing. Which is why it’s so confusing that it’s so damn difficult to do it. But that’s for another day. I’m writing now and I know that I will feel sharper as a result almost immediately. So I’m going to ‘work on myself’ by writing more, especially now I’m back and school starts for my son so I will no longer get (not have) to be a stormtrooper or a restaurant guest or a football team manager. Things I am going to do this week:
Jump into Scrivener (I’m hoping that, like surfing, it’s best to just try it rather than watch all the videos about it). Will report back.
Book something at the Manchester Literature Festival Meera Sodha! RF Kuang! Harriet Walter! Really anything!
Write in the morning – get that habit off the blocks as far as possible. If I write in the morning, that increases my sexy/healthy focus from twelve to a solid eighteen per cent. No lie.
Stef Is Writing 