I’ve always enjoyed effective language. When words capture life and leave an echo in me, that’s powerful. That’s magic. As a writer it’s what I aim to do.
I love crafting words. It’s intensely satisfying when I can convey what I feel with the perfect word or phrase for the piece – like twisting the block of a Rubik’s cube and coaxing the colours together. But it doesn’t always come together. Creativity is an unpredictable friend, then there’s the many-tentacled octopus of life.
I started writing with real commitment about nine years ago, it’s taken a long time and major staying power to feel I’m any good at it. Or enjoy some recognition. Many times, I’ve questioned why I’m doing it and if it’s worth carrying on. But I love it, so why stop? When tough times strike, I write my way through them. When good times arrive I write them out, too. Writing is my boxing bag, my game, my meditation and my yoga mat.
While work on my novel has been ongoing, I’ve needed breaks when my enthusiasm’s wilted. Writing differently vibes me up again, in holidays away from my novel I’ve worked on and published a bevvy of non-fiction articles and discovered I love Flash Fiction.
What I love to explore most is our human landscape. The ways we meet challenges. Our transitions. How we negotiate and make amends with painful experiences. The tiny moments of connection that can change the day. And the hilarity of the contradictions that are alive and true inside us.
Communication is an important theme for me, too. How difficult it often is to reveal ourselves. How our own words or lack of them, connect or disconnect us. I’m endlessly watching people and myself. Our simplicity and complexities make intriguing and beautiful writing material.