On being a writer...

A celebration of the writing process, of being a writer, of all the weird things that pass through a writing brain...

Sunday, 27 November 2011

where have I been?

...to lovely Lumb Bank, Heptonstall, on an Arvon Course. Thirteen writers, two tutors, wonderful scenery, log fires, talk talk talk about writing. Lovely week. And for once, totally single-minded. I'm so not used to mono-tasking that to spend a week just doing one thing felt like a gift.

Like many writers, I feel a little ambivalent about the teaching of creative writing, though I do think every writer - everybody- needs a mentor. And the kind of moral support, and target-setting that a course or an MA does, and the feedback and the structure are all helpful. But Arvon is wonderful for just allowing a writer to flex a muscle or two, and try things out, and be apart, and soak up a bit of literary ozone, and talk about books and writing and why and how and when.

A visit of course to Plath's grave. It's all about feeling part of a chain of words, a struggle to find that voice.

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