Every now and again, I find myself in that rare exciting moment of music happiness where you really like a band, and they're fab and no one has heard of them. Then you jump about telling everyone about this fab new band you like. Everyone is very excited. Happy ears all around.
And then they bloody split up.
So this evening's soundtrack is music I really like, by wonderful bands who split up not long after I decided I liked them. Bastards. Brilliant, talented bastards.
The 22-20s - Why don't you do it for me?
The 22-20s were awesome. Awesome people like the 22-20s. That's not to say if you haven't heard of them you're not awesome, but if you listen to them and decide you like them, I'll think you're more awesome.
Stabbing Westward - What do I have to do?
Stabbing Westward were such an amazing band. All too often likened to Nine Inch Nails, but a fab band in their own right. And Chris Hall is just a whole charismatic thing of sexiness.
Ben and Jason - I can't find any actually videos of actual songs, but this video has lots of awesome songy bits in it. Listen to them, then buy their albums. I can't describe how much I love these guys.
Can someone have a word with these guys and get them all singing again? That can be my Christmas present if you like.
So, I like this band, and then they split up...
Is good PR really rocket science?
I've been meaning to write about blogging and PR for a while now. Generally, I don't PR bitch. It's not my style. I'm not saying that sometimes PRs don't piss me off, but there have been times when I've fired off a blog post I know isn't great. Everyone is sometimes lazy in their job. We all cut corners. And I don't think for a second that the people who enjoy bitching about PRs on Twitter are an exception.
I'm lucky with PRs when it comes to Domestic Sluttery. We write nice things, we cover a lot of bases, we're pretty approachable. We want to hear about new things! We want exciting events and most of the time, if a PR is sending us something, it's relevant.
But there are times when bad PR really irks me. Because it's usually stuff that's so simple. I got an email earlier from someone asking if they could send me press releases (Laura Ashley, you're getting it right). It occurred to me that that had never happened before. I've been freelance for two years and I'd never have anyone ask before they sent me something. I don't mind that PRs don't, I'm happy to get press releases, but it was a really nice change to get a polite email asking if it was OK. As a result, I'm going to pay attention to what's in those releases. We get hundreds, but that one will stand out when I go through my emails in the morning.
It strikes me that a lot of good PR is actually good manners. If you take days to respond to my image requests, and then two weeks later you're all over me like a rash to write about your new clients, I'm not going to be jumping through hoops for you. If you get pissed off at me because I don't write about your client the very second you send the release, I'll start to ignore you. And if you invite me to an event and then go AWOL, but don't mention this when you email two weeks later about the same client, you'll be lucky if I deal with your company again.
It's not rocket science.
I don't ask for a lot, but I would like respect from people I work with. I don't believe in this hierarchy bullshit, like PRs should be oh-so-grateful that you're writing about their clients. Without them, my job would be much harder. I think that this goes both ways. I try and be as helpful as possible (within reason) with PRs, I'll try and reply and explain why something isn't right for me. I'll make an effort. And I'd quite like that kind of respect back. I don't think I'm asking a lot.
Unfortunately, there's some occasions when you have to deal with shitty PRs, because their clients are good. But goodness, I wonder if a major fashion brand know that their press releases were posted into the comments on a fellow writer's blog? Sometimes PRs aren't getting results because they're good at their job, it's because their clients are better than they are. They're worth the hassle. But honestly, it's those times in the day that I hate.
I don't ask for much from PRs, just politeness. Good manners and friendliness. In return, I'll be courteous and helpful and write damn good copy about your clients. Everyone's happy. That's not a lot to ask for, is it? It's not rocket science, it's just common sense.
Flickr image from Myklroventine's photostream.
Stop with the passive aggression. You know who you are.
Writing a post about passive aggression is tough. Because it's very hard to do it without sounding passive aggressive. Hopefully I can keep this post as general as possible but I think that's unlikely. It's not an attack though, I'm a bit past all that. I've been trying to write this post for a few weeks now. It's tough to write about this topic but I'm just so sick of reading passive aggressive tweets and blog posts and Facebook status' that I feel it's worth the post. That said, I'm totally guilty of it myself.
A few years ago when I was a blogging newbie, I wrote a blog post on my personal blog about a company I thought would go under. I was actually talking about the company who had "let me go" and they did indeed go under (although that doesn't mean my post was valid, it made me look immature and unprofessional). But because of my cloaks and daggers cryptic writing, my best friend, Cate, thought I was writing about her company, Insider London. Which is incidentally doing very well and I wouldn't expect anything less. She's amazing.
I'm not in the habit of writing bitchy blog posts about my best friend, or ever telling my friend there's something wrong with her business (unless she asked and I was being constructive). But the very nature of passive aggression means that you automatically think that something is about you. And it has one of two reactions. You either spend all day thinking you've done something wrong, or you ask the person if something is up. I didn't see Cate for a couple of weeks after I wrote that blog post and she was really sad until we talked about it. I'd inadvertently hurt one of the people I care about most in the world. Here's a little tweet example:
CateTrotter: @Sianysianysiany what's wrong? Why so blue?
Sianysianysiany: @Catetrotter I'm just really annoyed with a certain someone who should know better.
(This tweet was created for entertainment purposes, like they do on The Hills.)
But you see my point? I breathe a sigh of relief and then everyone else is still in the dark. Passive aggression is quite simply attention seeking. It creates drama. The people involved probably know who you're talking about, and the situation is heightened. It carries on way past the point it should. Everyone else is curious as to who you're banging on about, and they either decide in their head it's about someone else, or think that they've done something wrong when they probably haven't. The only person who gets anything out of this is the person being passive aggressive. Sadly, it seems to be the drama and attention that keeps them going.
That blog post doesn't work either. It's just as bad. Worse, even. Because not only does your blog post make you look immature, your writing looks confused. If you're not writing clearly, because you're being all cryptic, you're going to end up with reams of blind rants. No one wants to read that. It's silly and pointless.
We can hide behind the internet. And we do. We leave anonymous comments (by all means do), we write for blogs under another name (and then come out of the dark when it suits us). We control an awful lot of what people see. Why on earth do we want to turn people's perception of us into a bitchy little six year old?
I'm not saying I'm never passive aggressive. That would be utter bollocks. But I think it's something I'm more aware of. Ranting on my blog isn't something I do very much. There are better platforms for ranting. That platform usually involved a bottle of wine and a friend. Or even a cup of tea and a Skype chat. Most of the time, once you've cooled off things aren't nearly as bad as they seem. If you don't want to talk things out with someone, then shut up about it. If it's something that doesn't warrant other people being involved, then leave it alone. If you know nothing but bad feeling can come from what you're saying, then why do it? Leave the drama behind. Have a conversation offline. Don't air your dirty laundry in public. And don't pretend you're not doing just that.
Just because we can hide online, doesn't necessarily mean that we should. The best blogs I read are open, personal and honest. But that doesn't mean they're cruel. It doesn't mean that they openly bitch either. Because there's a time and a place. Just like passive aggression, using your blog to attack someone is unfair. Because then it becomes a game. Waiting for the other person to respond, seeing what will happen next. Working out your next move.
But it's only a game if two people play. People can only be passive aggressive and attack you online if you want to play along. Doing it under the guise of "being honest" is akin to saying to a friend "I'm sorry but..." when you're anything but sorry. There's nothing honest about your motives, even if there's some truth in what you're saying. So if this is the game people are going to play online, I'm choosing not to play along. Instead, I'm going to be working hard, having fun and getting on with my life. I've learned the hard way that hiding behind a laptop is a shitty way to deal with stuff. Games like that don't achieve anything.
Flickr image from Youngthousands' photostream.
Place, lots of places
Working for Qype and scribbling on Domestic Sluttery means that I'm forever in exciting new places. The next one is a new champagne and cupcake bar in a swanky hotel. But honestly, after writing 500 reviews on Qype, finding somewhere new and fabulous isn't as easy as it sounds. Over the last couple of weeks, I ticked off the last few places on my 'must visit' list - with The Cadogan, Giaconda Dining Rooms and Cork and Bottle rounding things off nicely. But there's always places I never seem to get around to trying. So here's a new little list of places I'm going to be lurking about over the next month:
- Franco Manca - Most of my "must try" places come from Rob H. He wasn't wrong with Giaconda, so I'm guessing this really is the best pizza in London.
- National Portrait Gallery Bar. It closes at the same time as the gallery. Which is bloody stupid. They didn't think that through, did they?
- Le Beaujolais - Another decent wine bar near Leicester Square? Stoppit. You'll ruin my idea of Leicester Square being the gate of hell.
- The French Restaurant in Clapham that sounds like a house number - 102 or something like that. I like restaurants that aren't really like restaurants. Although if someone doesn't remind me of the number, I might have trouble booking.
- Fernandez and Leluu. After reading some of the reviews about this supperclub, it sounds like it's so much better than some of the earlier ones set up in London. Finally.
- Coach and Horses. Not the Soho one. The little one in Mayfair all tucked away and looking tiny. I walked past it once but was too exhausted for any more beer.
- Hawksmoor. No, I'm still not sure why I haven't been here either. I blame my vegetarian friends.
- Idlewild. I've been meaning to come here forever. It's just really really really far away from my house.
- The Queensbury. They have Fornasetti wallpaper. That's worth the trip alone.
- St John. There's something about old school British food that makes me happy. It's also one of the only restaurants in Farringdon I haven't been to.
Flickr image from Lilly's photostream.
An Inspector Calls
Last week, I got over excited buying theatre tickets and decided that I simply had to see An Inspector Calls. The day after my birthday party. I was utterly shattered, I got caught in the rainstorm on my way home (and my umbrella broke) and I very nearly decided to say bollocks to it. Despite having already bought the tickets.
But I've wanted to see this play for years. Literally years. Ever since my brother found me sat on his bedroom floor reading his school copy, I've wanted to see this play. It's one of the best plays I've ever read. And despite getting the times mixed up and thinking the play started at 4.30 rather than 4pm, I'm so pleased we went. It's actually one of the best plays I've ever seen. (Also Props to the Novello theatre for not getting mad at us for being late. They were actually helpful and friendly even though we were in the wrong.)
There are so many plays these days that try to do "too much". They're all over the place, the scene changes ever five seconds and they're all singing and dancing (metaphorically of course, although I've never had a huge place in my heart for musicals). I love the simplicity of theatre. I like that it makes you look like you're snooping. For two hours, you get to sit and watch lives of characters you've never met. There's something very special about removing that forth wall. You don't get that with other arts. Sure, there's all sorts of fancy effects on film, but I don't want to trick my mind into thinking something is real. I want to watch it instead. Theatre is raw, and that's what makes it special.
An Inspector Calls doesn't change. It's one room, a small cast and not much happens. But it's just astounding. J.B Priestly is a genius and I think the Inspector is one of the most under valued parts in modern drama. Everything about the play is about the little things. It's about the words. It's a simple story, about a family's life being torn apart through the consequences of their actions. In two hours. The play is in real time and you can feel the point where everything begins to fall apart.
When I was younger I wanted to write plays. I still do sometimes. But I don't think I have the discpline. I've been kinda removed from theatre over the last year or so, and I miss it. I miss watching someone's imagination come to life in front of you. There's no barriers when someone is one stage. It's real.
Go see An Inspector Calls. Go fall in love with theatre.
Happy
I'm so full of smiles today. Sleepy, but full of smiles. I'm very lucky to have such wonderful friends. My dinner is in the oven, I'm watching a trashy DVD and I'm full of sleepy silliness right now. So I thought I'd cop out slightly from a real blog post. Instead here's a song that always makes me smile. Even if that damn Halifax advert has ruined it a bit, the video is pretty awesome.
I'm really lucky to have people to share my smiles with.
The Siany Guide To Partying
Teeheehee! Yesterday Matt Churchill asked me if I was all planned and ready for my birthday party. I replied that the plan was pretty simple - I turn up and wait for presents and drinks, and then at some point I fall over. It's an excellent guide to parties in general.
Matt put it into a little flowchart for super-easy-reference-action.
Frankly, it's a work of genius.
So, this is 27
A while back, someone asked me what I'd actually done in my twenties. And when you throw in flying to China to teach English on a whim, getting engaged (and er... then not getting married) and managing a rock band (really), it sounds like quite a lot. But I haven't done any of these things this year.
So what exactly have I been up to this year?
- Had my heart broken. One and a half times.
- Admitted failure and closed my first online project.
- And then realised I was onto something good with Domestic Sluttery and well, that's still kicking ass. It's one of the things I'm most proud of ever.
- Went to the ballet for the first time. And left halfway through to go to the pub instead.
- Got to grips with not being a size 8 anymore, and actually realised that I'm quite pretty even with a few extra pounds.
- Left a relationship that made me feel the best and worst I possibly could in equal measure. The hardest thing I've ever done.
- Said goodbye to lovely friends all living in different corners of the world now.
- Finished my book! That's the thing that I'm most proud of in the whole world.
- Went to Hay Festival for the first time. I'll be back every year now.
- Broke my foot. Ouch. Walked around on said foot for six months without plaster. Moaned about it. A lot.
- Went to see Faith No More in Berlin, just because I didn't get tickets to see them in Brixton. Amazing city.
- Ran a fab shopping event for the Domestic Sluttery - where I finally realised that the website was going to do well.
- Spoke at a serious blogging event. And people actually listened. Now I'm helping to run it.
- The fact that this was the same day Shiny Media went into administration was no mean feet.
- Stopped spending time with 'friends' who just sap my energy and give nothing in return. But made an effort to get to know some people I only knew a little bit, and well they're rather awesome.
- Domestic Sluttery started making money, despite some people being negative about it. I didn't back down and change the name, or listen to the negativity. I think we have a better website because of that.
- Which is why we signed up with Handpicked Media.
- And were able to take on more girls. Who all kick ass.
- I did lots of Come Dine With Me style dinners with Cate and Gemma and Charles. It was an awful lot of fun and I made new friends. I can also bake an awesome cheesecake.
- And then did the Nomnomnom online cookery contest despite having a broken foot and being sick. And we'll be back to win next year. Oooh yes.
- I started making my own jewellery. And people started buying it. Sometimes people I don't actually know. That's pretty awesome.
- I finally saw The Duke Spirit. They were worth the wait.
- I learnt to love karaoke.
- And how to make macarons.
- I danced until the sun came up. More than once.
- Finally got to see the Eiffel Tower. Yay!
There's a few things that I've left off this list. I'm not ready to talk about them yet. But a few people know what they are. More importantly, I realise how important they are and what I've achieved. Both personally and professionally. I'm so much happier than I was a year ago. Sure, I haven't been to half the countries I'd planned to, I'm probably only just in a place where I think I can handle being in an actual relationship again and I have very little money in the bank. But I'm happy.
I'm 27 today, and I'm ready to kick the ass of out the next year. But first, I'm going to open my presents.
Go away, I'm busy being on holiday
Really, shoo. No time for blogging. I'm enjoying holiday far too much. I think Alex thought I was stoned when we were at the theatre waiting to see Breakfast at Tiffany's. I think I was just completely chilled out for the first time in six months. It's pretty damn wonderful.
So unless you're going to make me a cup of tea, please leave me to potter about doing holiday things. Which basically means an awful lot of nothing.
Utter, utter bliss :-)
London Design Bloggers
Oooh I almost didn't blog this evening thus ruining the whole NaBloPoMo thingy. BUT! In a bid to get all of my work done before tomorrow so I can take the rest of my birthday week off I came home early and sober so I'm going to scribble a few words about the new London Design Bloggers Meet-up.
Which was actually pretty awesome. Held in the Scooter Bar in Waterloo (my new favourite bar - free wi-fi, Italian coffee machine, CATS and old scooters all over the place), there was about 30 interiors bloggers, designers, crafty types and writers. All of whom were charming, exciting and interesting. And all of whom were ladies actually. More on that another time.
The brain child of Ideal Home's features ed Ellie Tennant, London Design Bloggers will hopefully happen more often. I love the traditional LBM, but I also like meeting like-minded interiors bloggers about what I love doing. Finding amazing design and building it into the most important part of your life - your home.
As much as I love my work, my sense of home is important. Maybe more so as I'm a freelancer. Having a feeling that somewhere is home gives you somewhere safe. Somewhere secure. Somewhere where you can be you. You don't have to argue about who you are. You can do whatever the hell you want. It doesn't matter where that is, but it's so important. That's why I love interiors. It's not just about a pretty cushion for me. It's about a design that makes you smile. That makes your home yours. Interiors and design is so much more about cups and plates. It's about making the most important place in the world special.
So having a bunch of people to talk about that with, whilst drinking and stroking cats is pretty awesome. Doing it whilst opening birthday presents with the girls from Domestic Sluttery makes for a very happy Siany indeed.
Flickr image from Rick's photostream.
The Berlin Wall
It's 20 years since the Berlin Wall was torn down. I don't really think anything I can say can sum up the importance of this anniversary.
Giggles
I'm hungover today. Don't want to write real blog posts. Have been watching Gavin & Stacey instead. I feel Christmassy now :-)
Holiday time
Finally, I'm taking some holiday. I haven't actively taken holiday since Berlin (although I will admit to being hungover and actually just not doing any work for a day). Taking a holiday when you're freelance is really bloody difficult. Mainly because no one pays you to sit on your ass all day.
But I don't care. I'm taking a few days off next week, which will coincide with all of my birthday fun, and make sure I get some time to myself before the manic wintery months (really, I have eight parties in the next week - I apologise in advance if I bail on half of them).
I wrote a little while ago that I really wanted to see more theatre. So I am! Yay! Last night, around in the morning, I found myself buying matinee tickets for Breakfast at Tiffany's and An Inspector Calls. Two plays that I've wanted to see for months. I paid £10 for each ticket so I'm even more excited.
The rest of my time off? Just me stuff. Popping to the cute little market in Piccadilly to replace the pretty glasses my housemate broke, mooching about areas of London I haven't been to before. Going to lunch with friends. Reading books! READING BOOKS! And just generally having fun. Nothing major, just hanging out without stressing about the website or finding more work. And generally avoiding daytime TV.
Time to stop, time to be smiley. The world won't stop just because I'm taking a few days off.
I can't wait.
Flickr image from Zemlinki's photostream.
Glamour Magazine: Change your views on body image
In a rare moment of planned laziness, I decided to walk about for a bit last night, watching fireworks (I still go "wow" and "oooooh" even when no one is around - who knew?), and then skip to the shop to buy magazines and those hot chocolate things that you get in packets. Aces.
It's not often I read Glamour magazine anymore (in fact, I don't think I've bought a copy for about four or five months). My love for fashion magazines has quickly been replaced by my love for interiors and Glamour and Cosmo always seriously miss the mark for me. I'm not fashiony enough to 'get' Vogue, although looking at the adverts are always fun. After working in ad sales for three years, I'm a sucker for a good campaign.
But Glamour pissed me off (again) tonight. Everything was going well, there was some nice shoes, a trite article about careers and how not to treat men if you want them to fall in love with you. And then the token article about how we've "finally accepted curves".
FINALLY! It's OK to have curves! For goodness sake. Now, as someone who has found themselves get a lot 'curvier' over the last year, I admit that for the first few months it was hard to accept and get used to how rapidly your body shape can change. But don't worry, curvy ladies! Glamour magazine says we're loving curves now so it's OK and you can start to like yourselves again.
How nice.
But it was the ad campaign that was on the next page that got me really riled. The ad for the new Wii Fit.
Now, as a previous ad sales girl, I can hear the sale pitch in my head "oh my goodness this page is perfect for you! It's in our health section, right after a feature about curvy girls! Really, the placement couldn't be better..." - responsible, don't you think? But I'm sure Wii Fit don't mind. Because on the next page was this article:
Vodka and Canapes Allowed and I've still lost 7lb!
Really? For goodness sake Glamour, show some consistency! Either we're happy being curvy or we want to lose weight (with our new Wii Fit!) Make up your minds. The annoying thing is, if the vodka and canape slant was removed from that article, what you'd have is something that makes sense: If you want to lose weight, you need to eat less shit and do exercise. That's all.
All the information was there, but the way it's displayed really pisses me off. Glamour recently wrote about a "go to sleep diet". I'm not kidding. Now, on the face of it, that seemed stupid. But I was hoping it would focus on sleeping more giving you more energy which means you'll do more stuff and actually lose weight by galavanting and doing stuff. That makes sense to me. Nope. If you're sleeping more, you'll EAT LESS. Jeez.
Don't get me wrong, the woman who lost 7lb actually looks pretty great, because for once the diet looks healthy, but why the rest of the crap? Are women really buying it? And if they are, shouldn't women's magazines be doing something to change that?
I still think that magazines like Glamour (the best-selling women's magazine in the country - selling over half a million copies a month) have a responsibility towards women. People pay attention to what they're saying. So instead of trying the most exciting new diet, why not just simple facts. If you look after yourself, and if you eat right and exercise, not only will you look better, but you'll feel a damn site better as well. Is there anything wrong with that advice? Really? It's so simple that even writing it would be radical.
If Glamour could do their bit and fight against how women are portrayed in the media, then maybe I'd have a little bit more respect for them as a publication. But they don't. They pretend they're a woman's best friend, pander to her and leave her with mixed messages. All they're doing is fuelling the media love for targetting women's body image. When in fact, they could be doing something to change it. Some of you will read this and think that's something that will never change so there's no point moaning about it, but it's something that should change. If Glamour magazine don't think that their mixed messages are doing harm, then there's something very seriously wrong.
26 and 51 weeks...
Yay! It's my birthday next week. I'll be 27 next Thursday. Which isn't that scary, mostly exciting really. I've written lots of quite long posts this week as part of NaBloPoMo, but this one is a very little post just to say: Here's a list of what I want for my birthday! Buy me presents!
Flickr image from Kevin Briody's photostream.
The Library Bus
Every Monday a blue and yellow library bus parked on the street by my house. I'd rush home from school early on Mondays and hurry to find all of my library books from last week (usually under my bed). Then I'd run down to the library bus with my mum and my brother and we'd spend forever in there choosing which books we wanted. We were allowed to take out six - I think that's still the case isn't it? The librarian was nice too. I think she was called Sue. Her and my mum would chat whilst I sat and looked through "How to Draw Animals" and "The Owl who was Afraid of the Dark".
Mondays were the most fun when I was a kid. I'd rush home and put all of the books in the order that I was going to read them (geeky much?) and then I'd just read. All afternoon. All night. All the time. Everything I could possibly read. I literally read every book in my infant school and I was allowed to choose books from the junior school next door. The children there were confused and thought I was a bit weird. They were probably right.
The Library Bus is the thing I loved most about being a kid. My parents never forced me to read, but they let me read as much as I wanted to, whenever I wanted. I remember in summer I'd pretend to be sleeping but I'd read books until it got too dark to see. I guess I've always survived on less sleep than I should.
I wish the library bus still existed. Sure, I have a library down the road, but there's something so special about someone bringing books to you. Saying "look! They're here! Read them!" I might not read books as much as I used to (damn internet) but I still love books as much as I did as a kid. I think the library bus had a lot to do with that. I miss the library bus. Can someone invent one again please?
Flickr image from Taihung's photostream. Our library bus did not look that cool.
Courage Blossoms
“Courage is not the towering oak that sees storms come and go; it is the fragile blossom that opens in the snow.” - Alice M. Swain
I heard that quote a little while ago. I was typing away and it was said on the TV which was (as always) blaring in the background. It's the most perfect quote. It reminds me of being in China - My Chinese name is Shau Huaa. I think I spelt that wrong, but it means 'little flower'. It sums up a few things going on in my life at the moment. There's some really really big projects, and some very exciting things.
But it's a lot. And it's scary.
I'm taking on a huge amount, and everything is going very well indeed. But it's overwhelming sometimes. Not because it's not fun and there's too much going on, but because sometimes I expect Domestic Sluttery to fall down around my ears. Is it professional to admit that sometimes I'm terrified of the increasing popularity of my own website? Maybe not, but it's something that I never take for granted. Even if sometimes it does scare the berjeezers out of me.
It's the girls that stop me from going mad. If things are shit, they're the ones that pull me together. And things are sometimes shit. But no one ever sees that. I'm tough and I mostly hide things, but if one of asks me if I'm OK and I'm not, I usually cry. It's not often people get that out of me.
There's nothing tough about hiding how scared you are of something. I'm learning that. But I'm only 26 (well, for the next 9 days anyway) and I worry about how much I take on. I'm not really a grown-up yet. I worry that I'll juggle too many things and everything will drop to the floor and smash into little pieces. Then I worry that I'll be bankrupt and have to move back in with my parents. I worry that I'm just not strong enough to get everything I dream of.
And then I pull myself together. I read a funny email from one of the girls, or update them with something cool that's happening behind the scenes. I get an email from a reader saying that they like the site, and things seem less scary. It seems like just for that moment, I'm juggling everything just fine.
But that doesn't mean I'm not scared of everything falling apart. I might be courageous sometimes, but I'm really not as tough as people think. It's OK to admit that sometimes.
Flickr image from Nelgdev's photostream.
Slow down, write better
Now I'm doing this NaBloPoMo thing, I've somewhat unsurprisingly spent all morning thinking "I have nothing to say, what am I going to blog about? Why am I doing this every day for the next month" I don't want to write rubbish about what I had for my lunch but blogging every day isn't as easy as it sounds. Forcing yourself to write usually has one of two outcomes - you either end up writing some cracking stuff once you stop procrastinating, or you'll stare at a blank page for hours on end.
I don't think you can force creativity. But you can force yourself to get off your ass and actually write something, and work on that little idea you had just before you dropped off last night. I woudn't get any work done all week if I sat about 'waiting for creativity'. (Sometimes that actually happens.)
But where ideas come from is a whole other matter in itself. I remember Dan telling me that he got his best ideas when he was hungover. I get my ideas when I'm on public transport. If I'm having a tough time working out an interesting angle for a feature, or a plot line in a piece of fiction, you can bet that by the time I've got to London Bridge on the train I've worked it out. It works if I'm walking back from the latte shop too. I'm not going anywhere with a purpose, just ambling along. I think that these things have something in common - you stop thinking about it. In fact, you just stop. And when you stop letting in everything else, that's when ideas have time to form. Sometimes there's so much going on we don't just sit and think.
How on earth is an idea going to manifest itself if you're trying to write whilst thinking "I haven't paid the gas bill, is he going to call?, how am I going to get this paperwork done before the weekend?, I wonder if X has stopped being mad at me, is Gossip Girl on tonight?". We're bombarded, all the time. It's these rare occasions when there's nothing going on that we finally get the ideas that work. It's like we give our imagination time to breathe.
Everyone deals with ideas differently. Some people think about them for a while before acting on them, others write everything down that they possibly can and see what forms. Other people don't do anything, and just see what sticks. It's usually those ideas that are the good ones - the ones that stick around and just won't go away. They're the most fun.
I get asked a lot where my ideas come from - I sometimes produce a staggering amount of content each day. Most of the time it's from being relaxed. Making time for me. And knowing when my brain has had enough. When I stop, that's when I want to write the most.
Flickr image from emdot's photostream.
NaBloPoMo starts here, maybe, Possibly. Might not.
Some people spend November growing moustaches. They raise lots of money for charity by looking a bit stupid, and then shave their face at the end of the month, in careful stages to see just how much they'd look like Hitler. This is what I'd look like if I did Movember:
So let's not do that.
Instead, I'm going to do NaNoBloPoMoFoSho. Or something. Blogging every day for the next month basically. Yes, in comparison to NaNoWriMo it's a bit of a cop-out. But I'm still redrafting The Book - I don't want to start another one.
Despite the stupid name, I do miss blogging just for me. It's nice to have my own space to write what I want. So I'll be here every day until December. November is a pretty awesome month so I'll have lots of stuff to talk about (expect me to blog about my birthday presents). Then once December hits, things will go back to normal and I won't blog nearly as often. And I still won't have a moustache.
