I have never struggled to call myself a writer.
Sure, perhaps I haven’t felt professional enough, or high-flying enough, but on the most base level, I write and therefore I am.
It’s been a part of how I define myself for at least twenty years. From the stories I wrote as a child, the competitions I won, the classes I went to. From studying at university, to doing my masters degree, to running writing workshops, writing fiction has always been the central theme. I am here to write.
Thankfully, my day job is as a copywriter too, so I can…
We are the writers of our own stories. Before, that used to mean that we were the authors of our lives. We decided where the story went. We were the authority on us.
Now, it’s not just the power we have over how we live — it’s how we look like we live. We’re not the writers of our own lives — we’re the curators.
Our lives are content, their worth determined by others. By strangers in a void double tapping:
Yes I approve of your life choices.
Yes I like this image of you eating a cake, but not…
When the people who make money from social media aren’t using it, we probably have to think carefully about what that means.
I took a social media hiatus for a little while. I was getting angry at myself for how often I picked up my phone, only to open a social media app, stare vacantly at it, learning nothing, not caring, before closing it again.
I did it at least 50 times a day. When I did spend longer scrolling, I was filled with anxiety, stress and feelings of worthlessness. …
When people ask me how I get my ideas, it’s always because I’m thinking of the worst. That’s how my brain works.
What if this happens? What if that happens?
What if I discover this terrible thing, or that person becomes sick? What if the things I want never happen? What if…
I do this for a few reasons. Not purposefully, obviously (what a drag) but it’s my brain preparing itself. Protecting me from any future disappointment or upset by getting me steeled and ready.
It’s not particularly fun.
But it is how all my stories start. What if…
Whenever I feel like I’m failing at being an adult, I feel comforted by the fact my friends seem to feel the same. Yes, they too have left the clean washing in the machine for 2 days until it smells damp and has to be washed again. They too have come home to a fridge with no food and have cut the mould off the bread for toast.
Maybe there are no adults, and we’re all just pretending?
Except I don’t see 60 year olds with mismatched socks or nothing in to offer guests when they pop round unexpectedly.
It seems to be a trend. You’re a website, or a company, or a group. You need some content. You need it to be well written, clear, SEO-optimised.
You need it to reach out to your audience, grab their attention, hold them riveted.
You need it to tell them the right things, at the right time, in the right order.
You need to make them trust you. Make them want to read other things. Make them pay for whatever it is you’re selling.
What you need is a decent writer with a knowledge of marketing, along with tone, intent, audience…
There’s always something to worry about. And no, I don’t mean who’s following me on Twitter, or my brunch looked Instagrammable, or whatever people seem to think matters to those in their late twenties.
I mean actual things to worry about.
We’re here to DO something, right? We’re here to make a difference, leave the world a better place, be politically active, teach the future generations, look after our parents, be good people.
Today I was cleaning my flat. Not only was I worried about the fact that I’m a nearly-thirty year old woman who hasn’t hoovered in two weeks…
I spend an inordinate amount of time wondering about what I’d do if there was a zombie outbreak. Or an infectious disease. Or a war. I am that person who works out the escape routes in restaurants and always likes to sit facing the door.
Not that I could do anything about any of these things. I like to think about the worst happening, but I’m pretty incapable when it comes to any skills that would serve me well in that scenario. I would definitely be the first character knocked off in the TV show.
I’m thinking about this more…
If everyone has a book in them, how are we meant to know which ones are destined to be best sellers, and which will lay forgotten by the wayside?
I’m pretty sure anyone who’s written more than one book has had the experience of their baby letting them down. We heap such expectation on this poor little collection of our thoughts, feelings, hallucinations and obsessions. We slave over them, work our behinds off making them readable, and then suddenly a year’s worth of work has disappeared into a flurry of cover reveals, launch days, early reviews and excitement. …
Millenial bashing has become somewhat of a hobby for older generations eager to blame someone for something. But part of this issue is that people aren’t really sure what a Millenial is. Most of them are late 20s to mid 30s. What those moaners are actually talking about Generation Z, those who are teenagers and in their early 20s now.
Last night I went to a gig at Rough Trade in London. It was a last minute thing and I was super excited. I don’t go to gigs much any more, mainly because Spotify has changed the way I listen…