Day Dreaming is Writing

I got my best piece of writing advice long after I had my first writing published. What? You’ve never heard of me? Well, that must mean that you’re not a social work academic with a special interest in UK-based domestic abuse research. Otherwise, well, I was quite the medium-sized deal.

As an academic, to prove my worth, I had had to complete a 100,000 word PhD thesis and have a list of peer-reviewed journal articles that could prove my original contribution to the field. (I also had a couple of book chapters, written just for fun, because although students would read them, they didn’t really help with the metrics.) I was burned out and had internalized academia’s stance on originality and creativity as being achieved through volume of words and big ideas. And yet, I still wanted to write. I wanted to be original and creative. Words felt like they could be my friends. But I needed to change the relationship.

It was in the midst of some compassionate leave, and through the support of a good friend, that I wound up in a comedy-writing workshop, run by Jane Postlethwaite. I was nervous and unsure if I would be able to join in. I was angry, grieving and worn out.

Jokes are short and pithy. Writing comedy is not about volume or big ideas. Comedy is about fun and quirkiness. Under the guidance of the teacher, I learnt that writing is not all about sitting in front of a computer screen, looking at data files and silently screaming into a void. It is the walk in the park and the observation of a pigeon. It is the post-it note about the way a woman holds her coffee cup. It is the list of things you would rather be doing. It is the joy of choosing words like you would choose a biscuit. It is acknowledging the rise in temper. It is the urge to giggle. It is leaving yourself one-word voice messages. It is day-dreaming.

I’ve learnt that there can be no output without input. I can claim I am writing whilst I’m reading, watching TV, conversing with friends, babbling with my cat. My cat is a very good listener, provided she has been fed.

Of course, at some point, I have to sit down and craft those patches of ideas into a quilt. I have to hone it into clever word-play or a punchline. There are days where I have to make up my word count and tie myself to the keyboard. But those days can only happen after the day-dreaming, the walking, the pondering, the watching and the reading.

From that comedy-writing workshop I had a five minute stand-up set. I’ve now gigged in several pubs and theatres. I’ve written flash fiction and short stories that have been placed in competition and been published. I’ve had an audio drama produced. I’m writing a One Woman Show. (Look out for it. It’s called “Unmanageable”.) But it all started with granting myself permission to fill up my imagination by day-dreaming.

Not all projects are successful in that they win a prize, or get produced, but they all teach me something about the craft.

As a writer, I have things I want to say, some of which may be serious and heavy. But that doesn’t mean that I can’t enjoy the process. Choosing writing means that I am choosing not to see work in the same way as others. I try not to judge myself purely on productivity, on word count, on hours sat down in front of a screen. Writing is not about key performance indicators and smart objectives. This has been a hard lesson for me. I still talk down to myself when I haven’t changed the world with a deftly-crafted argument. But I’m getting there.

My mantra - day dreaming is writing. Writing is day-dreaming.