The shoebox challenge

A couple of weekend ago, I had myself a mini shoebox challenge which instead of being an exercise demonstrating how much clutter I have became more about building a writer's archive.

The prelude to the challenge is that hubby and I are going to be a one flat family come the middle of October as the flat by the race course will be no more. Now just to clarify before someone reads too much into this - we have only been living in one flat, but the second flat has proved itself very useful for keeping duplicate belongings. With this in mind; the nice cupboard under the built-in bookcase has been turned into a tool cupboard and I had to rehouse the variety of shoeboxes that I had kept safety out of eye sight for the last eight years.

Now as you may have guessed the boxes do not continue shoes but a collection of belongings; from postcards to letters and newspaper cuttings that I have collected throughout my life and some of which belonged to other members of my family; which I am safe keeping. As you can see from the photo above it is not a stable tower and when I tried to fit them all in my box room office, within an hour of them being in their new room they collapsed and created a shower of 30 odd years of memories over all the floor. Doing this on a Friday night with alcohol resulted in the scattered memories being left on the floor when I went to bed in a mood and feeling weight down with what to the outside eye appeared to be nothing but clutter.

Saturday came and a brighter mood saw a new challenge - I could get organised so with a tape measure and the trusted iPad I measured up and bought proper archive boxes. The shoe boxes would be no more and it felt fantastic. The original premise for the shoes boxes had been to use them to collect things in; but as collection grew they didn't really hold everything they needed and therefore they ended up being a mess of things of importance in with silly things; which makes it harder to review; harder to sort and harder to throw away things I don't need. When all the shoe boxes collapsed; it felt like a washing pile with a million pair of black socks to pair up and yet by buying new boxes I was able to see all shades of black and remember why they were treasured possessions.

Now at the start of the blog; I said I was building a writer's archive rather than collecting clutter so here's a flavour of ideas that the box bring:

(1) One of the boxes continue scripts, at least three are unpublished works that can be explored and maybe sent to a publisher.

(2) There are 500 + postcards documenting travels around the world and inspiring pictures. What is the line from the song "A picture paints a thousand words.... "

(3) Staying with the postcards; there are some really old postcards that belonged to family members; which can either be used for investigating  family history or understanding the world before World War 2; where signs and symbols had a whole different meanings.

(4) A newspaper archive filled with filed newspaper cuttings ranging from local news about Braco right through to international events on world stage. This box reminded me of the Kate Adie dream I had when I was about 11 and wanted to travel the world writing news.

The lists goes on; there is about a thousand ideas in nine boxes ranging from history to fiction to autobiographical writing. It is all there for me; catalogue and waiting for me for me to get started. I don't think writer's block will be a problem in the new world of freelance!

It is funny none of these belongings are new to me but organising them have brought them back to life and me back to life. It is strange I am building the life I have dreamt about and I am living the life I once only believed only was true in fairy stories.

Fireworks night

Tonight is the festival firework concert in Edinburgh and hubby has gone to bed whilst I watch them with a sleepy cat. I have the number five in my head. Five weeks of work till I become freelance. Life is sweet.

Going freelance and being my own boss has been a dream and plan I have wanted to follow for years. It is not an over night reaction to a busy to do list. It is about following a dream, creating a legacy and actually listening to my gut. Life is about taking chances and making calculated risks. October 2015 will be a new chapter in my life.

Watching fireworks at the end of festival always signals change for me. The bustle and magic of Edinburgh Festival diasappears from the city's skyline and the performers give way to first year students coming to study in Auld Reekie for the first time. That was me twenty years ago coming to Edinburgh to study publishing; swapping Braco's Front Street for Lothian Road. I wouldn't have watched fireworks that year, but I did the week before I got married; in the weeks leading up to leaving the Bank; the list goes on. It is as though September becomes a new year for me and I move forward in new venture.

Five weeks to freelance; five weeks to a blank page and a new chapter.

1st Writer's walk - 12th July 2015

My first writing walk, brought to you by Ernest the Cat who doesn't believe in a Sunday morning lie in, has taken me to the Royal Mile Cafe by the Castle, which is pleasantly empty for a Sunday in July. Mind you it is 11 a.m. in the morning.

The walk started from Polwarth and took me through Gilmore Place, past the King's Theatre, along the meadows and up to the corner where the pub Doctors is. From there, having admired some very pretty summer hats, I walked up George IV Bridge and up to the castle taking in some of Edinburgh's closes that contains the writing museum and the Edinburgh Mill discount shop. I was amazed even with an early morning start how busy the Royal Mile was. I will not be attempting this walk again till at least September.

You are probably thinking, that is very interesting Julia, but why call it a writing walk? Well it is my time to think about my novel when my characters can exercise themselves and I can find places of significance to my fictional world. For example two of my characters, Jeremy and Chloe are having a secret love affair at the start of the novel so they have to have places that are real to meet. It is my technique to try and enhance the words on the place and also to break down the long days of being in front of a keyboard trying to remember things about Edinburgh. I am and perhaps with a renewed focus very serious about getting published and part of this is doing it in a healthy manner and these types of walk just reming me of why writing and finishing this book is so important to me. It is important for everyone to be encourage to follow our passions and not just let them become a dusty hardback on a top shelf of a bookcase.

I know that when I go home most of the afternoon will be spend doing things connected to my day job, but I now know where Chloe and Jeremy meet for dates, where Jeremy will live and feel as though I really enjoyed my walk through Edinburgh. Follow your dreams folks.

A couple of nights ago, I found Little Earthquakes had been re-released as a Deluxe version and without question, I have downloaded it as this one of this is one of my all time favourite albums by any artist. It was originally release in 1992, when I was the tender age of 14 and it was one of those albums where I bought it for two songs, Silent all these years and Winter  and still love every song on it.  There are songs on the album that still make my spine tingle as I remember the teenager I was and the journey of my life between then, when I bought it as a tape cassette to today, having it stored on the itunes cloud. No matter what the format, the music is still as piercing and thought provoking at it was when I first heard it. I have this very vivd memory of being parked in Bridge of Allan, waiting for my dad to get his hair cut and listening to the lyrics of Winter through the car stereo and being enchanted.  I think I  now own nearly all Tori Amos's albums, along with a several hundreds other albums.

It is really hard to remember myself as a 14 year old, I think it was of the first time I was working on a book. The book would eventually get sold around the school to raise money, but that when the writing started. It actually started at age 10, when my New Zealand cousins came over to Scotland and I wrote them into a story about dragons and created my alien from Pluto. Writing was the only thing that made sense to me and as long as I had good music and a pen, I could write you a love poem or a story about horses (I was a totally girl) and it was that simple. Writing was my escape to a world of no boundaries, it became my safety net when I had to face the truth about how ill my mum was and became my therapy when my words were very dark, and eventually I wrote myself back into the light and the world.