Iona Winter

Where to from here? The song ‘Road To Nowhere’ is running through my head today. I can officially call myself a graduate, with a Masters in Creative Writing. Hoorah…whoop whoop! Yeah about that…

So, I’ve written a manuscript that has subsequently been torn to shreds and used for fire-starters. Well that last part’s not entirely true, but there is symbolism in the act of burning something that’s been written and subsequently changed. AND I do have screeds of paper to be recycled! A phoenix from the ashes perhaps? Oh I don’t know. I’m all out of adjectives, or metaphors, or similes.

The truth of the matter is that ‘The Novel’ is nothing like it was. It has morphed immensely, thanks to honest and thoughtful critique from others, AND going through a purging process myself. I think the first manuscript (made up of a kazillion drafts) was something I just had to write.

Now things are serious, and it’s not a pleasant stroll through a glade of trees, with baby animals cavorting around amidst the daisies. It’s more like sitting alone in a boat, far out to sea, with nothing but one oar and an anchor. I don’t know what to do next. How on earth do I keep going? Dumbfounded could be a good hashtag, but I’ve taken myself off Twitter…

Recently, in amongst chaos that descended on the household, I’ve tried to write a new chapter. And tried. Nothing came. It was SO much easier to go over what I’d already rewritten, and REFINE things further. I’m a great one for reverting to old habits when stressed—plus I had a deadline to hand in ‘the next instalment’.

It’s not all serious frowns though, because I can laugh whenever I catch myself out procrastinating. It’s like I’m another person completely. A sneaky one who can be found down the back talking to the chooks, or up a ladder rearranging the top cupboards (the one’s I cannot reach due to being vertically-challenged). I’m a monkey in Chinese astrology, so that might have something to do with this behaviour. If in doubt blame the horoscope, or the parents, or the dogs that bark incessantly next door. All jokes aside, those dogs!

It’s tempting to put in emoticons as I write sometimes, I don’t know why. Could that be another form of avoidance, or am I just trying to be ‘hip and down with the kids’. Hells-teeth what am I saying, I don’t even talk like that!

It’s true what the song says, there’s a city in my mind…BUT sometimes I just struggle with getting the city onto the paper. Or the words onto the page. Or getting my bloody pen to work! Yeah, whatever you say Missus 😉