One of my favourite phrases, which anyone who knows me will understand. It’s the childish way of saying “I’m done” out of frustration. Today, I don’t want to play ‘trainee writer’ anymore, and by that I mean, after enough failed attempts at forcing myself to do the 30 Day Creative Writing Challenge, I’ve decided not to continue. It wasn’t enjoyable to me and every time I logged onto my blog I was very aware that I hadn’t done a single one in months. Now before everyone panics and thinks, “Oh no, if she doesn’t find that enjoyable she must not be a writer,” that is not the case.
What I don’t enjoy are forced prompts that I have no interest in or care for the outcome. Some I found intriguing and perhaps in time I could have written those, but others I just found boring or had no idea where to start. Even in my job as a wedding writer, I find articles to write on a daily basis. Sandpweddings.ie is updated with new daily and I have to constantly brainstorm new ideas for the months ahead and then write several. Some are more interesting than others and come easily to me, others I find myself moving down the list as I procrastinate with more interesting ones. That doesn’t mean what I’m putting off isn’t interesting, it just means, for whatever reason, it has cast a cloud and is now looming because I’ve put it off for too long. It has become something I dread, even though it’s really not that difficult to write. There’s just something about not knowing where to start that can make it difficult. I suffer badly from Blank Page Syndrome so that’s always been a struggle whether it’s an article, a short story, an assignment or a book.
But the main reason I’ve decided to throw in the towel on the creative writing challenge and more importantly that it’s okay to throw in the towel, is because I’ve decided to take a running jump off the cliff and write that book that I’ve been going on about for an amount of time I do not wish to disclose. I don’t like telling people that I’m actually starting for fear it’ll prompt questions about what it’s about and how is it coming along, and I prefer to do things under cover of darkness and shadow until I can be sure I’ve come out with something good. However, I’m shedding light on my actions this time because I believe if the friends and perfect strangers that follow my blog know about the book (along with my fears) it’ll put just the right amount of pressure on me to actually commit to my plan.
So there you have it. I’ve decided to abandon the creative writing challenge in favour of something I really care about writing. I will continue to update this blog as promised, with other ramblings, rants and random observations of my life and if I feel like it, I’ll include the odd update on my progress, though I can assure you, it will definitely be vague. And now for one of my favourite “quittings”. Just replace ‘Alaska Cannabis Club’ with ‘my book’ and replace her reporting job with the Creative Writing Challenge.
Alright, so while this is obviously going to be a massively shameless plug about my new website, which I set up with the wonderful Lizzie Nolan, it is also going to be about the trials and tribulations we went through in the process of setting it up.
As promised via twitter, I am currently doing the mother of all clean outs on my room. I’m talking under the bed, the window sill, the drawers, everything. And I don’t mean take everything out and tidy it all away neatly. I mean, I’m a hoarder so it’s time to clean everything out. A dramatic and adventurous post complete with pictures is on the way once I actually complete this task in the next week or two, but on a more serious note, this post just can’t wait.
I have covered a lot about mental health and suicide for a journalist of my age and status (non-existent status). I’ve written several long articles, including a two page spread and an editorial in the college paper and one of my columns in The Herald and I’ve interviewed several people on the subject, from experts and advocates, to family members and sufferers. I was always drawn to the subject because it was such an unspoken thing that affected so many people; I always felt I had never written too much on it, or covered everything that needed to be covered. Continue reading
So this is one of my more personal (and once again completely random) posts. I’m actually going to spend a whole other post talking about how personal people make their blogs and stuff. What is that now, three promises I’ve made to talk about stuff at another stage? I promise I will so don’t worry. Just to refresh your memory, there’s the story of how I got into journalism (I know it doesn’t sound riveting but just wait for it), more posts about ads, my work experience, not to mention my million dollar idea on how to not drop ice-cream. I know I’ve made promises, they’re all coming though, I promise. I know, I just did it again. Anyway, this post is about none of the above (for now).
It might just be my age. I’m only in college a year, getting a taste of the real world, dealing with proper professionals (having to act professional myself), you start getting a taste of feeling important. I am ashamed to say I spent half an hour – half an hour! – looking at a website that sold business cards. I just stared at the page for a while, then I started doing a mock-up of what mine would look like, picking all the different themes and designs, writing out all my details, I brought the final product to the paying stages and just looked at it in all its magnificence. Then of course I shook the crazy out of my head, closed the page and went straight to Facebook like a normal teenager (yes, I’m still a teenager if my age has ‘teen’ in the title).
I wrote this for the Indie Sight after I bought five new pairs of shoes and a dress to force me out of my own comfort zone of bootleg jeans and runners. It worked, I went eight days without touching my runners or my favourite jeans. Now I have the best of both worlds. Leave me a comment if you have a comfort clothes zone you want to change. You can now see it on SheSays.ie
Almost every girl goes through this stage in their fashion lives. The stage where they find a comfort zone for clothes and wearing nothing but what they can find in that zone. It’s often the same type of zone. There’s the comfy jeans and runners zone, the baggy hoody zone, the all-black zone, the covered legs zone, the flat shoe zone. Everyone has a different variation or combination of zones. Unfortunately, when they’re trapped in this zone, anything outside it looks terrible. Jeans addicts can never seem to get into dresses. Runner addicts won’t wear pumps or heels. Hoody people won’t explore cardigans. Continue reading