On Writing
‘Begin where you are’ — Julia Cameron
Writing forces your hand along the page, to feel paper under your fingernails. This doesn’t have to be literal.
Words are human and they tell a story that is yours alone.
To be human is to be real and to be real is to connect with an audience, your ideal audience, as Cameron says. Write and the readers will come. Write what you know. You did not experience all this for nothing.
The drums sound across the desk, holding council with your heartbeats. Music reminds you of yourself. Candles flicker in agreement.
‘You’ll know,’ sings Stevie Nicks. ‘You will know.’
Yes, you’ll know.
The black candle looks red inside; a womb opening up. You’ve been writing around and now need to write inside. You will give birth to a book.
Some things are difficult to face directly, but this is the only way to move beyond the glass barrier you’ve been hitting your head against.
We know there are glass ceilings, but we have forgotten the glass walls and floors.
Your resolution is on the other side of the glass walls and you must risk lacerating hands and face to break through. The glass floors are already shattered from your past failures, yet you must scrape your tired feet over them to know your true path. This is your path, your crown of thorns. Leave the cross, the dead albatross, the shackles, they are not your burden.
There is glass terrain to navigate. Only then can you gaze up at the ceiling that begins to cave as you crawl over floors and break down walls.
It was the glass cage you had to undermine, to make vulnerable, so you could reach the space above your head and beyond your outstretched arms. You knew it existed but didn’t know it was for you.
This is your space, your time, your page.
Spittle flies from uncensored mouths. Use the evils you know to create something yet unknown and good. Grow from destruction. Stop the nightmares by facing them during the daytime. Get everything laid out on the page.
The pen takes over, the brain surrenders to what lies above. A resounding applause echoes in your future. Brace your back for praise, or a knock. You accept and you grow, knowing it’s not about success but authenticity. Throw the sh*t into the wind; at least you’ll know what hit you.
‘Im not afraid to take a stand,’ says Eminem.
There are knots in stomachs fraying under the strain of burden. There are razors on the edge about to fall because nothing is balanced. There are noses pointing in the air that should be smelling dirt under fingernails. Dirt is cultivated on the page.
Feel the paper under fingernails; it has new meaning. Raise the dirt, lick your finger, taste what you are made of.
There are stifled prayers that hang in the air like dead birds carried on a storm. Let them fall to the earth, let them be. They can be placed on pedestals later. For now, let them find their own way.
You have writing to do.
Rachel Palmąka Mace is a literary fiction and creative non-fiction writer, singer, artist, spoken word performer, lapsed academic, and feminist. She is the editor of the feminist-led magazine Subtle Sledgehammer and her new project ‘Around the World with 80 Women’ (AW80W) — which shares the narratives of women from Somalia to Scotland — will be published in the summer of 2024.
