Writing is hard work. The task is seemingly impossible. When you don’t know how to start, just start. When you don’t know how to continue, just continue. As Rebecca McClanahan says, reach for your journal. Writing is easy.
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Finding a voice
I was away in Northumbria last week leading a Dark Angels writing course. One area we explored is the different ways of finding “voice” – whether that’s your own voice, the voice of a character or the voice of an organisation you might be writing for. So, rather fitting to stumble across this piece from …
Walking, writing, photographing
A forlorn beach hut. I’m writing about Rye Harbour Nature Reserve as part of a residency project with creative collective 26.org.uk. It’s a beautiful place, but my word is it windy! Hard to hold the camera steady outdoors. And the few notes I scribbled in my book are almost indecipherable. But this process of walking, photographing and …
“I just knew he couldn’t break me”
This is Chris. Her father raped or abused her every day until she was 15 years old. “I just knew he couldn’t break me,” she says, when I asked her how she survived. “There was something about me that meant I wouldn’t go under.” To help other abused women – and, increasingly, men – for …
“You see how happy the young people are. The things they have achieved”
Here’s a story I wrote recently, part of my work with The London Community Foundation… There’s a worn out pool table. The bar sells Ribena, Mars bars and crisps. A girl in black leggings and a Chelsea football shirt laughs and dances. This place feels like any other youth club. The only difference is …
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“I believe we are saving lives”
Recently I’ve had the honour of visiting many small charities across London, all doing incredible work with almost no resources. I’ve been trying to tell their stories. One of them has just been published. As an experiment, I thought I’d paste the full text here. I reckon it’s a 5-minute read. ***** “I believe we …
Listening
No strangers to photograph today, as I’m back working in the writing shed. So it’s off to the woods to shoot trees instead. Leading a writing workshop in Spain last year, I took a group of students on a walk; we stopped to “talk to the landscape”, asking questions of gateposts, stone walls and – …
Enjoying the light
Olivier, a French man in London. I was on my way to a board meeting at writers’ organisation 26.org.uk. Feeling knackered; still emotionally drained from a dear friend’s funeral last week. Olivier was leaning against a bollard on Borough High Street. “Are you waiting for someone?” I asked. “No, I’m just enjoying the light.” …
Always apologising
This is Sarah. She was standing outside a laundrette in Pimlico, London, waiting for her wash to finish. I was on my way to visit a youth club project. “Can I take your photo?” “Sure, what’s it for?” “Nothing, just for my own purposes. Oh sorry, that sounds kind of creepy.” “No worries,” she laughs. …