I’m not very good at blogging. I spend a great part of the year doing school runs, taking my children to music classes, Arabic classes, performances etc. I also have to juggle my own studies along household chores. So, it has been a very new and different experience for me this summer. Several weeks ago, my children went to spend their holiday with their grandparents in Algeria. This has given me a lot of time in solitude.

I’m currently working towards a Masters in creative writing at Lancaster University, and am working on a novel adaptation of a screenplay I’d written a couple of years ago. In mid July, I attended a week long summer school on campus. While I was searching for the room where the initial meeting was to take place, I ran into my tutor. We chatted a little awkwardly and laughed, until we found the room where the meeting had gone underway. All of the students were a bit nervous. I spotted a few from my online conference group.  I think this meeting made everything very real for us. We had only interacted via the Moodle page for the course, and mostly during brief conferences. I spent my first couple of days in a daze, but soon, as the workshops began to really kick in, for the first time in a long time, the act of writing became something important for me. In one workshop we discussed the significance of spaces and landscape, and their psychological associations. I thought about this as I walked along one of the wooded trails on campus.

I spent my early twenties surrounded by forests. I used to go hunting for edible mushrooms, and I spent a great deal of time in silence, listening to the sound of leaves rustling, and to the crack of twigs (in case that black bear and I finally crossed paths). The natural world is a huge part of my own writing, and something that I associate with my youth-as if solitude and nature was something that did not belong to me as a wife and mother.

I think many writers, women in particular, are plagued by guilt when it comes to putting time aside for writing. What about those other things that need to be done around the house? Are you spending enough time with your family? Although I have managed to squeeze in time to practice on the piano, I almost never seem to have a suitable time of day reserved for writing. And why is that? I think I’ve been plagued by statements in the past said by loved ones, such as ‘maybe you should do something practical’. Or perhaps the actual phrase ‘creative writing’ doesn’t sound too serious. Like it’s something you do for fun on the weekends with a few pals over a few beers or tea. Or something.  I quite like the French création littéraire. It sounds far more grown up and serious, like you actually are creating a work of literature, as opposed to just playing around. Maybe I need to feel like I’m doing serious.

If you’re a writer and you’re like me, you’re incredibly critical of your own work and it’s difficult for you to take what you do very seriously. Now, getting back to that week at Lancaster University. . .I felt for the first time in a long time like what I was trying to do was serious, and it required serious thought, and required dedication and time. In the evenings, we listened to different people read their work. It rekindled an appreciation of literature that I’d forgotten. When you get caught up in family life, it’s easy to lose touch with parts of yourself.

There was something else that made me think about how seriously (or not) I’d been taking my writing. I visited a friend who is a painter. As I stood in her studio and looked at her beautiful work, all hanging in rows, bright and beautiful colors glowing, something clicked in my head. Writing is like painting. You need to make time for it. I brought one of her paintings back home with me, a beautiful trail winding into a forest, and as I sit back and study the brush strokes on the canvas, I remind myself that writers too need a studio.

 

Even if it’s just a metaphorical studio in your mind, you need a place to create. After thinking about all of this during my rare alone time, I decided to establish a routine. I purchased a copy of What If: Writing Exercises for Fiction Writers by Anne Bernays and Pamela Painter- which I highly recommend- and have committed myself to do several of its exercises on a daily basis. My plan is to develop the inclination to do these things even when my life is full of school runs and extracurricular activities.

I love my family. I miss my children. They are having the time of their lives right now, and I now they associate us, the parental units, as the ones who take them to school, and make them do their homework, and make them practice. I’m okay with that. I know that, when they get older, they will appreciate our strict routines. Now, I’m content with the fact that they get a break from me, and I have a moment to reflect on who I am and what I want to do. I’ve always known what I’ve wanted to do, but I’m learning to prioritize that. I think that’s a valuable lesson not just for me, but for my children.