Below is an extract from my latest book From Writing With Love – (available in paperback and on Kindle) it’s had some great REVIEWS. They are very generous and say much more than I could have hoped for.
From Writing With Love is very close to my heart. I even read myself bits – in one way to remind myself what I’ve written, but mostly to remind myself of what it is to be a writer, why I love writing so much and what’s important in the grand scheme of things.
Here’s an extract – the book is written like this in bite sized pieces.
Flowers in Prison
Your Writing Desk – When I was younger I didn’t think of myself as a woman who would ever have a study or a desk, and houses that had studies or – even more exotically – pianos, really fascinated me. Now I still celebrate having a desk and a room of my own, as you can see here in the beginning of my poem
A Woman Must Have Money and a Room of Her Own
It comes late this room of her own,
that doesn’t have a bed
better than a trip to Africa or Alaska –
which are popular now –
the desk positioned just so, to catch
nothing but trees
black and leaning west, the sky fading
in layers of grey
waiting for the slow repair of light…
Your desk can be a desk proper, something new, something picked up second hand. It can be portable: a folding picnic table, an old pasting table, a tray with your notebooks and pens on. It doesn’t have to be expensive or fancy but for me the desk, in whatever form it comes, is where I celebrate my writing life.
When I approach my desk I see the things I love: a cornflower paperweight, my notebooks, my magnetic Zen calendar, a vase of flowers, a brass pot from India, pencils, pens… and above it, the hand sewn bunting my sister in law Jan made for me. I’d be less than truthful if I didn’t admit also to the half-drunk cups of coffee and the mess of scattered papers – it’s a big desk – often a sign that I’m working hard and far too busy to tidy up.
When I worked in Low Newton Women’s Prison I often took a bunch of flowers into work with me for my classroom desk; later for my office. I bought a plastic vase to put them in as no glass was allowed. I know it was considered eccentric. I don’t know of another member of staff who ever brought in flowers but fortunately it was tolerated. I did this because I love flowers. I have flowers on my desk because I want to honour and celebrate what I do, because every time I see the flowers I’m looking at something beautiful, because it makes me want to sit at my desk and start writing. Of course in the prison I also wanted to bring a breath of the outside world into what was a tough, closed institution. I hoped to give a reason however small for celebration.
As writers we should never forget to celebrate what we do or the love of writing, or our freedom to do it. It’s too easy to get bogged down in complaining about how hard it is.
