Today I set about writing a poem. A really bad one, to be specific. And I tried, you know, I really tried.
A wonderful mentor (also known as Neil Gaiman, who is probably not aware of being my mentor and is also good with bees) once said, “When you don’t have anything to write about, when you’re not able to write, just write.”
So here I am. Writing.
For starters, a word of advice. After getting down thirty lines of poetry on a Word document, do remember to save your work. I forgot to do so while dashing off to something I was late for. Naturally, when I returned, my thirty lines had vanished to, well, whichever place lost words scamper off to.
So save. (You probably know this by heart, but eejits like me obviously need reminding.)
And also because I’m an eejit, I’m back to square one and staring at a now-blank Word document. And I’m here precisely because I needed to un-blank the page and ranting (in a civilised manner because I’m proper like that) felt justified.
With that, I take a baby step into the blogosphere. Here, I’ll tell you more about bad poetry, improvisational pocket performances, life as a choirgirl, and other unlikely things I’ve gotten myself tangled into. I’ll tell you my dreams without any bothersome attempts at analysis, just because they’re wonderful stories. Be warned- there may be spells of fangirling about whatever it is I’m obsessed about at the moment. Mostly I’ll just be frolicking around in a carnival of words and ideas.
Welcome to my brand-new creative trampoline. Feel free to give it a bounce.