– He didn’t. The train was late. He could have. Would it have made any difference?
Him: No. Not really.
(Her: Well. Never mind.)
– the end?
This post was written in response to the prompt for Day 11 of the WordPress Writing 101 course in which we were invited, in one way or another, to ‘update your readers over a cup of coffee’. As ever, I tried my best to stick to the prompt, and this time, I think I almost made it. And, as they say in the movies, ‘any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.’
‘How do you defeat terrorism? Don’t be terrorised.’
― Salman Rushdie, Step Across This Line
The door opens, slowly, rattling up.
Inside, there is security, double locked doors, video cameras, a keen eyed concierge, neighbours who know everyone. And yet know no-one. Not really. Who knows. I don’t. Do you?
Inside, they are like me, maybe I can trust them, maybe not, but I know them, and they know me. I think.
The door rumbles up and over. Electrical humming. Cables taught.
Like my nerves, drawn tight.
It’s all over the news.
They. They might be out there, beyond the door, the double locks, the security. They might be there. And, they might get in.
Blue lights flash. Sirens fill the night with something less than seasonal sensation. Doors are broken down. They are there, and they, the others, the ones with the blue lights, they know it.
And, between them and me, the door. It rolls back down.
Closed.
Safe again, or not?
At home, in a place that you might just have seen on the news.
This post was written in response to the prompt for Day 10 of the WordPress Writing 101 Course in which were invited to ‘quietly observe the world around us and write about what we see.’ Sadly, where I live it has been far from quiet, albeit reasonably far away from the events that resulted in the disquiet here, although some say vice versa. Needless to say, this post is in part fiction, and (mostly) a reflection on recent events.
“You have been my friend. That in itself is a tremendous thing. I wove my webs for you because I liked you. After all, what’s a life, anyway?
― E.B. White, Charlotte’s Web
(not writing) is both the the title of this post and also what, in the context of the WordPress Writing 101 course, on which I embarked a couple of weeks ago with the best of intentions, I have been doing or (not doing).
So, now, during my lunch break, over a crafty coffee, or hunched up on the train (yes, I am once more commuting to work by train rather than as a solitary occupant of an expensive pollutant on four wheels) I am playing catch up with last week’s posts.
I write but I am not a ‘writer’.
By day, I am a consultant in the media and telecommunications industry, something that pays the bills and, as it happens, involves a great deal of communication, both written and verbal. So, yes, I write a lot for a living, and have learned much from many who have tried to make me write in a crisper, clearer voice ‘can you try to use less flowery language’ or perhaps ‘if you can’t get that idea on to a single page you’re just going to lose them….’
But, I am not a ‘writer’.
Although, I want to be. Try to be. And will keep trying.
My first ‘real’ blog kicked off in the fall of 2011. That is when a little project called belgradestreets.com was born. A little project that, as they say, had legs. A project that gave me two published books of my photographs, two exhibitions (so far) and a documentary on Serbian Television. And an ambition to do more, a lot more, with my photographic aspirations.
That first project was the child of my lifelong passion for photography.
My photography is (one of the things) that I do when I am not consulting, (not writing), or anything else. When crafting pages for that blog, those first two books, I echewed words (I’m not a writer) and let my photos tell the story that I had in mind.
My second blogging project kicked off, again, as a photoblog, a place to share my feelings and views about living and working in Belgium that I called belgianstreets.com
This is also where I began to muck around with words. Still not writing, but not just pretty pictures either. Then, just over a year ago, I took part in the WordPress Photography 101 course and, not content with just posting pretty (or not) pictures, I began to stretch my writing muscles a little.
That, in a roundabout way, resulted in this blog. Not a platform from which to promote my photographic ambitions (yes, that’s another putative project in progress) and not a blog featuring a single place or theme. This blog is where I now do my (not writing). Earlier this year, I participated in two great WordPress courses. Writing 201 in which I published some quite dreadful poetry, and Writing 101 which, of course, I took part in later to learn how (not) to write.
And so, here I am, still (not writing).
And, if you are still here, and if you did, thank you for reading, I really do appreciate it.
This post was written in response the the prompt for Day 9 of the WordPress Writing 101 course in which we were asked to write about what we do when we are not writing. In addition, we were asked to plan to interview a fellow writer, more about that in due course.
This post is a combined response to ‘Day 7: Let social media inspire you’, last Tuesday’s prompt on the WordPress Writing 101 course (which asked us to respond to one from a selection of embedded tweets), and to the Daily Post Weekly photo challenge which this week asked us to share a photo that would make us forget the sad times, ‘this week, it’s all about revelling in a win’.
So, in responding to both prompts, this post goes a little ‘off piste’, as I used one of my own tweets and, decided to reflect on the concept of Victory in the light of recent events and my own experience.
On the morning of 7 July, 2005, I walked out from the door of my apartment and walked about 200m towards the London Undergound station at Edgware Road. For some reason I had a sudden change of mind, I decided to take the bus. Instead of walking straight on and down into the station to take the tube I normally took, I turned left and jumped aboard a bus. Moments later, well, moments later is now history. My decision to turn left meant I am not (yet) history.
Both of these photos were taken from the balcony of our apartment in London.
For days afterwards, weeks, months, sleep was impossible, the streets were closed, within a few hundred metres lay St Mary’s Hospital, London and Paddington Green Police Station.
That day in London, the day after all of us who lived and worked in London had celebrated the ‘victory’ of being selected as the hosts of the 2012 Olympic Games, turned into a day from hell. A day in which four suicide bombers killed 52 people and injured 700 more. A few days later, an innocent man was gunned down at an underground station because he was thought to be a terrorist.
Who is the victor here? The suicide bombers, who despite the intense security after 9/11 managed to evade the security put in place by a (once) powerful nation? The people of London (and I was one of them) who the next day defiantly boarded tube trains to show we would not be intimidated? The military personnel who guide drones to kill from the skies?
None of us.
There are no victors in this war.
The world will not be at peace until we find a way to resolve our differences.
“in the space between chaos and shape there was another chance”
― jeanette winterson
This is my contribution to Day 6 of the WordPress Writing 101 course.
You can see all my scribbles for the course by clicking here and if you really have little else to do you can click here to browse my complete contributions to the Writing 101 course that I participated in during April 2015.
space (to write)
I don’t have a specific space in which to write, nor do I have a particular place in which to do so, at least not in a dedicated sense. In fact it could be said that I don’t have space (or indeed) time in my busy life to write, let alone the ring-fenced space, or time, in which to do so.
Nevertheless, I do so.
Or at least I try to do so.
For some months this year the theoretical, literary and practical concepts of space and place featured prominently in my life. But, as some may say, that’s another story, and, should I stray there, I risk digression and well, as I say, that’s another story. Perhaps for another day, another life.
Writing is not just the physical act of putting words on paper or screen, it is the whole process which begins with that glimmer of an idea, the collation of thoughts, the decision to tell the story, and then, at the end, the writing down of the tale.
I’ve always enjoyed telling stories.
My writing now falls into two distinct zones. The work zone, where I write documents for a living. Reports and recommendations are part of the bread and butter of my life as a consultant. That writing needs to be crisp, to the point, making the incomprehensible accessible.
And then, well then, there is the writing I do here, and on belgianstreets and belgradestreets. This is where I have been trying to improve my writing, express myself and have a great deal of fun in doing so.
Most of my writing is done hunched over the screen of either my 11” MacBook Air or my 17” MacBook Pro, the former is tiny and can almost literally go anywhere, the latter has a bigger screen and is much easier to use but heavier so tends to stay at my desk. I have written with the Air in pubs and bars, on planes and trains, on park benches, in airport lounges, and pretty much anywhere else you care to imagine (or perhaps not).
I do have a vice though. In addition to using my Apples, I do love to scribble in those wonderful black Moleskine journals, then I feel like a ‘real’ writer, and I prefer the kind with blank pages as that lends itself to not only scribbling but crazy mind mapping and sketches, all of which helps to make sense of my topic. Or not.
I have tried all manner of writing apps on my macs.
My current favourite, for getting ideas on to the page quickly and with the minimum of fuss is IA Writer, this one is writing stripped back to the core. A great old fashioned typewriter font on a pure white background, no menus, nothing but the words magically appearing in front of me (I wish!). You can almost hear the carriage return zinging on the typewriter 😉
And then, there is Scrivener, from Literature and Latte. This one I love. Scrivener takes a while to learn, although I know some who have taken to it like a duck to water and grasped its every detail with amazing speed. When the time is put in to get to grips with the app it pays back in spades. I am using Scrivener to help me write my serial story dark | side | thursday. I could write and write here about Scrivener, but I will spare you the pain. Just to say that it is wonderful if you want to capture and collate ideas and organise your work in just about any way you want. Try it, and if you do let me know what you think?
Sometimes, when an idea pops up I might even just jot it down on a post it note (which I then lose) or tap it into the notes app on my iPhone for further work.
I’m also a great fan of mind mapping (see above) and as well as scribbling on bits of paper, a whiteboard, or in my Moleskine, I’ve also invested in two apps to help me, Scapple from the makers of Scrivener, and MindNode Pro, both of which help me in organising my thoughts before I write.
My ideal physical space for writing? Well, that’s quite simple, A space in an attic, not only for my writing but for my photography. Somewhere to write, to edit, to keep together all the tools of my craft (and maybe one day, trade), a place of my own, lined with books and prints of my photos.
My own space.
A place to be.
Me.
The prompt for Day 6 of Writing 101 then went on to seek feedback from you with suggestions on what you think I should write.
My writing to date, here at least, comprises the following:
*shot with nikon d700 and nikkor 50mm f/1.4 lens at ISO6400, f/1.4, 1/125s, minimal edits in lightroom cc and lit by the glowing embers of a real log fire*
*four images were provided with today’s prompt, I elected to choose a similar one of own, shot with nikon d700 and 16-35mm f/4 lens and originally featured on my blog, belgianstreets*
Es muss auch Spiel und Unschuld sein und Blütenüberfluss sonst wär’ die Welt uns viel zu klein
und Leben kein Genuss.” – Herman Hesse, Bäume. Betrachtungen und Gedichte
All around and on the ground Blooms strive to live Underground, over ground Nature lives as she gives Desperation grounded, death confounded Abundance, living, giving Never failing to, Cheat Extinction
*shot with nikon d700 and 50mm f/1.4 lens at ISO200 and 1/200s , f/7.1 and edited in lightroom cc , all things survive and grow even in the most unforgiving of places*
andy townend 