Why Writing?

Anais Nin

There’s some things I wanted to say about writing, and how I write, and why I write.

Why I write.

I don’t know why I do; I don’t know what else I’d do if I didn’t write or think about writing or talk to writers or read about writing – or even read books and think about writing them, and what I would have done (or wouldn’t have done). I write because it’s who I am. What or who else would I be if I didn’t? Yes, I get distracted. Everyone does. Real life gets in the way. Things overwhelm other things. It happens. But even at the furthest away I’ve ever been from a bit of paper and a pen (or my typewriter or word processor), there’s always writing inside my head.

How do I write?

I write. Flippant, isn’t it. Facetious, even. I just write and keep writing and write more and go back and write over what I wrote and go on and write more. Like a child locked in a room with blank walls and a big fat crayon. Writing writing always writing. I could give all the tips in the world, and even though I did study writing, I still maintain that it’s not really something that can be formally learned. You learn writing by writing, not to listening to people talk about writing, or writing yourself. The how  and whys are bound up here together, you see. I write because I have to, and any way that I can, for as long as I can, always. That’s it, really. e.e. cummings

Yarn Bombing at the Grand Canal

yarn bombing molly malone

the knitted tree by the grand canal

There are many trees standing by the Grand Canal in Dublin. Big, leafy, friendly, old ones.

Since winter, one of these trees has acquired a slowly-largening coat of bright-coloured knitted patterns and flowers.

I was never sure if it was the one knitter doing this and adding on as they went on, or if knitters were coming to add on their own pieces, but either way, it made me really happy.

I loved that it had survived there for months and was even flourishing. I loved how people would sometimes stop to touch it. Apparently people do things like this all over the world – I found out later that it was called yarn bombing.

I’ve seen the Molly Malone statue yarn bombed.

yarn bombing molly malone
yarn bombing molly malone

One day last week though, as I was walking along the canal during my lunch break, I saw that someone had burned the knitting. There was a big hole in it and bits of ashes and burned-up wool all down the tree, and scorches all in the bark. It was really horrible. I took a picture and showed Facebook, and there were sad and angry faces all around, with words like ‘scum’ and ‘hooligans’ being tossed about. Continue reading “Yarn Bombing at the Grand Canal”

#VisDare – Engraved – flash fiction

They say that when you reach 50, you have the face you deserve. There are sly words for wrinkles – laughter lines, crows’ feet, smile lines, frown lines.

Society abors them. It wants the rose always, never the winter, or the regeneration.

The world never wants the end.

Franny, however, really didn’t care about her face. The grey in her hair didn’t bother her. Franny knew that the appearance of the body was the very last thing that was important – in such a vast span of life that we all have, she watched the clouds, the stars, the street lights, animals, children, ladybugs…everything. She did not want to be impervious to the world but to join in with this pageant of scenes and tastes and moments.

She threw down her smartphone, turned off the TV, and left the house.

She spent the rest of the afternoon outside. Continue reading “#VisDare – Engraved – flash fiction”

‘Life changing’ – or Just Marketing?

Google Calendar Says Play The Piano

Except I don’t do what Google Calendar says, because I’m not a robot. I wish I were a robot. I mean, making habits seems easy when you think about it.

You do something.

You repeat it.

Ad nauseum.

Except it’s really not that easy at all.

I mean, if you don’t do something, like exercise or piano practice, that you know you’re meant to do, it implies that you don’t want to do it, yes? Except…you do really want to do it. You just wish you’d already done it, or you’d already reached the shining end goal in your mind (ripped abs, for example).

What is it, though, that makes people not do things that they know they’ll

  1. Enjoy doing once they start
  2. Be glad they’ve done it
  3. Find rewarding


Why don’t people stick to their good intentions?

Is it laziness? Are humans really that lazy? What is it that separates people with drive from people without? Self belief? A clearer image of the goal? Or is it having no goal at all?

I’m really not sure.

Leo over in Zenhabits says that it could be that the habit’s too hard or that it’s a really big undertaking (i.e. run 5 miles a day when you’ve never run ever in your life). Dave Navarro says that it’s because you say you want it, but really you want something else (i.e. lying in bed eating cookies and watching horror films).

I Googled ‘how to make something a habit’ and a plethora of links came up. It seems to be quite a thing.

Here’s a few of the links:

18 Tricks to Make New Habits Stick

Sticking to a Habit: The Definitive Guide

Can You Build a Fitness Habit in 21 Days?

Habits Are Everything

Hacking Habits: How To Make New Behaviors Last For Good

The Power of Habit (book)

The 8 Habits of Highly Effective Bloggers

The 3 R’s of Habit Change: How To Start New Habits That Actually Stick

What do you think? Hes anyone in the WORLD ever actually stuck to their guns and acquired a new habit, or is it all just marketing?


Life doesn’t come with achievements to unlock.

There’s always that point where you wonder what the point is. You start feeling like you’re running a race that’s already over. You look back, and remember that you’ve been at this point before.

You start thinking, I’m wasting my life, I should be doing such-and-such, oh if only I had time to do whatever-it-is then I’d have achieved the purpose in my life.

Well, no.

Sorry. Continue reading “Life doesn’t come with achievements to unlock.”