Reflections on a month of writing.

When light hits a surface and bounces back to our eyes, we see a reflection. Our face in the mirror is perhaps the most familiar one we see, but it is not our true self. It is a distorted image, flipped by the light. And so it is disarming when we see ourselves as others see us, through another’s webcam or video. Any reflection of ourselves should be honest, but it can only be as honest as our own perspective allows. Perhaps that is the perspective that really matters. Bats use echolocation to orient themselves in three-dimensional space, the reflections of sound waves helping them locate prey, find their way and circumnavigate obstacles. In a similar way, we can take the opportunity to reflect on our experiences, to consider not just what we’ve achieved but how we want to move forward.

I’ve come to the end of this month-long challenge to write every day, which feels like a natural point for reflection. I began this challenge with the simple goal of just writing something every day. It didn’t have to be perfect — the aim was to get the creative part of my brain working again, like a muscle. To build a habit, which I think is one of the most important and under-sold aspects of being any kind of artist. For the first week or two this was easy, and I woke up every day full of ideas and excited to write. But then real life took over: dealing with work and university deadlines, as well as half-term childcare, meant my time and energy levels were depleted. Some days (though thankfully not many) I struggled to write anything at all, feeling my battery drained. On those days I had to be disciplined in forcing myself to open a new document. What helped was having the IA Writer app on my phone. I often use this on the train for drafting notes and blog posts, and being able to open it up and jot down whatever was on my mind while I was waiting for my tea to brew, for instance, made it easier to get in the mindset for writing. Usually just a few lines were all it took to open the floodgates for the words and ideas to flow. Occasionally it was a bit harder, and on those days I allowed myself to publish shorter pieces. I didn’t set myself a word count, so the the length of pieces ranges from a single paragraph to stories of almost 2,000 words.

One thing I especially enjoyed was the challenge of crafting short stories. Writing stories was something I loved to do as a child, but somehow I convinced myself in adulthood that it wasn’t my path. Knowing that I only had a day to write a story from beginning to end really focused my mind around structure and narrative in a way I never truly have before. Before we began this challenge, my friend and I talked about stories where nothing much happens but you feel like you’ve been on a journey anyway. We’d both read Orbital by Samantha Harvey and I had just finished the Monk and Robot series by Becky Chambers. Both are quiet and contemplative, and I had these in mind while writing the stories here. Knowing that a story doesn’t need to contain epic adventures or thrilling plot twists to transport your reader is remarkably freeing.

A conclusion I drew from the process of writing was that you can access a far deeper truth through fiction and poetry than simply by reporting facts. This is true of any art, I think. The pieces I poured most of myself into were the stories and poems. These were the ones where at times I felt I was channelling raw emotion onto the page. I hope they succeeded in carrying some of that emotion, that humanity, through to the reader. But even if they didn’t, they were incredibly valuable for me.

I’m ambivalent as to whether sharing my writing on social media is overall a good thing. On the one hand, I would like people to read (and hopefully identify with) the things I’ve worked hard on. On the other hand, the people-pleaser in me has to resist the urge to compulsively check my posts for “likes”, and catastrophise when there aren’t enough. It’s also made me give my posts a social hierarchy, where I deem the stories and longer posts worthy of sharing and the smaller journal-like entries not interesting enough. I know if I was talking to someone else doing a similar challenge I would tell them to just share it all and it doesn’t matter if people read it or not. But in my head, sharing my thoughts every day is tantamount to spamming people. (This is why I’m not a TikTok influencer.)

Another goal of this challenge was to find more writers to follow and to spend more time reading other people’s work (as opposed to social media posts). I have found a few writers whose work I love (Matt Gemmell and Robert Kingett are two of those), but I would still like to discover more. They are the perfect antidote to doomscrolling.

So, what’s next? I plan to continue writing, maybe working on a few longer short stories (I have a few ideas percolating away). Although I intend to take a break from the pressure to write every day, I still want to maintain the writing habit. Aiming to hit “publish” at least once a week is, I think, a worthy goal. I like to think my writing has improved as the month has worn on, but the big leaps are only visible from a zoomed-out perspective, once you’ve been doing something a while. I am starting to notice things more: both in my writing and in the world around me. To be more observant, more intentional. If nothing else, continuing writing is worth it for that alone.

Lastly, please check out the writing of my wonderful friend, artist Jessica Bartlett, who inspired me to join her on this challenge, and whose beautiful, poetic meditations are like a cool breeze on a sticky summer’s day.