Sophie King told me to write this book

Journalist and Novelist Sophie King led a writing workshop at Cybermummy.  I arrived late, so this post is not about some of the more fiery debates Sophie's workshop fuelled, which went over my head completely.  I was the one tweeting:

Aresidence Alexander Residence 

@ 

@helloitsgemma Cheers, I found my voice and I wrote a poem at the writing workshop. #cybermummy11

I consider myself a writer, although I am not yet published.  After giving up teaching to be a full time mum I decided to complete a Diploma in Creative writing with the Open University which I finished last month.  I have amassed a pile of short stories, plays, life writing and half of two novels.  Now I have promised myself I will work on getting published.

When Sophie asked for examples of funny things our children said, I shared the title of my favourite post
Mummy I want to go to the Moon and you're not letting me.  Sophie responded by saying why not make it into a children's book.  So I have written the first draft.  This post is very special to me, it's about struggling to be a mum when you're losing your mum, and it captures all of the space and universe in between.  As a children's book of course, it won't convey all of that, but I would like to dedicate it to my mum.

So Sophie's suggestions to other bloggers may have gone down like a lead balloon, but I am hoping her suggestions may take me, or at least my daughter's literary equivalent, to the moon.  I have been looking at what is out there already.  Of course lots of writers have documented children's desire to get to the moon, but I still think this story is unique.

I also wrote a poem with the lovely Holly who runs Mabel and Milo, handpicked clothes and toys with a retro and vintage twist.  Sophie gave us the prompt 'I wish I hadn't'.

I wish I hadn't

had children

sometimes

But then

if I hadn't

I wouldn't

laugh so everyday.

That was written in one minute, with no time to edit.  I like the fact we censored ourselves initially, guilty at how easily that statement flows off the tongue. But then, as every parent does, we did the juggling, and pushed on to a bigger, more beautiful picture.

Collaborations can be exciting.  Jay Mountford, who ran the photography workshop at Cybermummy 11, lent me her Moon photograph for my original Mummy I want to go to the moon blog post.  If there are any children's book illustrators who want to work on a story about getting to the moon, or anyone who knows the faintest thing about children's book publishing, please get in touch.

From play to performance

It's the first week I have joined the Sleep is for the Weak writing workshop and I have been meaning to for so long.  I'm trying to fit in an OU Diploma in Creative Writing, although I keep finding myself blogging instead of doing coursework.  Maybe the writing workshop is a good compromise?

The writing prompts are all to do with remembering and childhood.  This is a mix of seeing the nursery show from my child's perspective (prompt 3), which stimulated some 'bittershiny' baubles of memory of my own childhood experiences of performing (prompt one).

Miss L
Mummy is it nursery today?  Is it the show?  I don't want to be in the show.  I don't want to sing Beatles songs, I want to sing 12345 Once I caught a fish alive.  I don't like it when all the mummies and daddies are staring at me.  It's too loud.  I don't know where we are.  This hall is huge.  Why are we in the church for the show?  Why aren't we in nursery? Everyone is looking at me.  This is where we do playgroup.  With Mummy.  I miss Mummy.  I want to be with Mummy.  I'm poorly. 

Me
Year 1-  I am standing in the school hall at lunch time, small and excited and fresh from running round the playground.  My best friend has dragged me in to audition for the choir.  The teacher hits a note on the piano, it reverberates off the polished wood floors and across to the wall where the pull out wooden climbing frame is fixed.  It sounds beautiful.  She asks me to sing the note back, I do, loud and proud and full of enthusiasm.  She tells me 'No'.  I am sent back to the playground.  My friends can stay.

Year 3 - I am a snowflake, we are doing the Nutcracker.  I have a floaty white costume and I twirl and dance beautifully.  Someone knocks the Christmas tree and lots of decorations fall off,  Tracey says it was me.  I am cross and say it wasn't, but everyone is staring at me afterwards.  Laura says she can see my pants through my costume.  I am cross with mummy for putting me in navy pants, she smiles and tells me how well I did.  She didn't notice the decorations fall off.

Year 6.  We are auditioning for Snow White.  I refuse.  My teacher asks me to 'just read the witch's part' so that Joanne can audition for Snow White.  I make a very scary witch.  The next day I am cast as Snow White.  Jenny teases me and says I'll have to kiss Ian who is the prince.  I cry and refuse to do it.  But something has changed in me.  After Christmas I write and direct a play for my class.

Year 7 - I am cast as Cinderella.  I am supposed to kiss Prince Charming Paul, but we just skip that bit.

It just kept on going from there, I loved Drama at secondary school, I studied it at University and I became a Drama teacher.  It took me time, and lots of encouragement to find my confidence.  And a teacher who cleverly tricked me into performing when the spotlight was elsewhere. 

Confidence is a delicate little bird, it needs to be nurtured and released slowly into the world.  I took Miss L to a drama workshop recently that was about play rather than performance and she absolutely shone.  I know performing is a useful skill, but sometimes it heaps on a whole load of pressure on where it just isn't needed.

Thanks for reading, looking forward to reading the other posts :)