Wednesday, 22 June 2011

When I grow up . . .

. . . I want to be a writer.
This childhood dream has just popped back into my head, after being buried for some 55 years. In those days I was horse mad, and all the stories I wrote involved me owning and riding ponies.
Now I have decided once again to be a writer, and I read somewhere that the best way to become something is to pretend you already are. So - I am a (pretend) writer.
The next step is to decide what to write about, and again I read (you'll be surprised to learn I read a lot) that you should write about what you know. Well, so there the problems start, because I'm a bit of a Jill of all trades, I know a little bit about lots of things but I dont know a lot about anything much.
Maybe I should write about my day so far, but who is really interested in reading that I got up at 4 am to let the cat out, only to find she didn't want to go out, just wanted to be stroked and made a fuss off . . . at 4 am! Get a life, cat. And I dont suppose that my two cups of tea in bed, made for me by the lovely Rog, while I sat propped up on my pillows doing some crocheting, will be very exciting to many folks. My bowl of cereal for breakfast, which, although being wholesome and fulfilling, is unlikely to inspire anyone to great things. And I really cant even think of anything I did during the course of the morning, apart from washing dishes, loading the washing machine, making beds and sending a couple of emails. Late morning, and is anyone in their right mind going to show the remotest flicker of interest at Rog's and my sodden walk to town, we ourselves stayed dry under the brolly, but our shoes and feet got soaked! Buying carrots and onions in Sainsbury's was about as exciting as watching paint dry, and my 36p fine on my late returned library book is doubtless unlikely to make any difference to the world economic situation. A quick pint of lager for him and a half of Guinness for me in Wetherspoons helped to bide some time while the weather decided to change its course, so that when we emerged it was into sunshine, but is that really of earth-shattering importance to anyone? Our bus ride home (free, courtesy of over-sixties bus passes) passed entirely without incident, and our salmon salad lunch, although tasty and full of nutrients, would hardly feature as a newsworthy item.
So now as I sit digesting, I'm wondering what on earth I should write about. Maybe I should renew my passion for ponies again and take up horse riding and writing about it, or maybe I should just pop the dream back where it came from, buried deep down at the bottom of the filing cabinet in my memory (answers on a postcard please).


Elaine said...

Are you sure you're not my long lost (slightly, only slightly :) ) older sister?

I too was obsessed with horses when I was younger, although I only learnt to ride when I was 13. I also loved English and still turn my hand to poems if the mood takes me.

Describing the ordinary may seem mundane but life changes so rapidly that the things we do now may seem odd in a few years time. When my mother in law was alive, I loved talking to her about her childhood in the 40s and it was a completley different place!! We did try to get her to write down her life experiences but she didn't get very far unfortunately.

Of course ..... if you decided to take up riding again, that would be interesting to read about. I keep on saying that I want to .... but think I aught to lose a bit more weight before subjecting some poor horse to having me on its back!! If you re-start perhaps it might encourage me :)

Chrissy said...

Well I have just read it and found it highly amusing Joy. I was horse-mad too right up until I was 55 and I had an accident that put me in the emergency room of our hospital and it all went rather downhill after that. My daughter in Canada has taken up the passion and when we visit we do still go out on rides - albeit slightly more sedately. I had all the books under the sun in my collection of owning, training, living with and having horses of my own - sadly I have still not won the lottery so this will just remain a dream until those lucky numbers come up. You carry on being a writer - a writer can make the most mundane of days seem interesting - and you just have done exactly that

mad about bags said...

you are already a writer Joy, what i just read was honest and witty and a joy to read(excuse the pun)sometimes the daily routine is mundane but with your asides and your funny take on your day those are the reasons I wanted to finish what you had written... so carry on writing about you and Rog and if you take up horse riding write about that too!!!and when you are a famous author i can say "oh I know her she's driven past my house!!!

Anonymous said...

Joy i love the way you write. I may not comment every day but i certainly do read every post! As has been said before,you always seem to put your funny take on daily, mundane things. If i'm totally honest, even if nothing exciting does happen, i love reading how other people live their lives, i'm nosey! You will probably have noticed i have turned my blog into a 'business' one but after reading this post, i may just start up a personal one again.

Carol x

Heather Leavers said...

You *are* a writer. Keep at it!

I used to ride as a child, hadn't ridden for probably 30 years when we booked a family horseback trip one day. I was astounded when my hands automatically grasped the reins in the "right" way - I'd forgotten there even was a "right" way.

I'd far rather read blogs about inconsequentials than those that are all about "this is what I make, this is what I sell".