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Monday, 7 September 2015

On Hold...but not blocked...paralysed possibly.

So here I am. Degree finished, awaiting the piece of paper and in true introvert fashion, not at all contemplating going to the graduation in 2016.

Every time I say this to friends and colleague I get besieged with complaints about how I should, the work involved, the journey and such like. I find myself having to justify over and over again why I do not want to go and stand in a room with people I don't know, who do not understand my personal journey (in the sense that we have not been friends etc) and are not on the whole interested in this bearded little man from Dorset. I am sure they would clap and I would, in turn, clap them; but the congratulations and smiles are meaningless to me. So I find myself defending my position and winning - of course.

Even my partner and his University educated friends have had to concede that their experience of gaining a degree differs from mine. Theirs of student flats, lectures and shared clubs (mostly drinking) and mine of emails, reading, working full time and battling through the night guided only by bloody mindedness and a Tutors encouragement.

What I cannot defend is this is the first real piece of writing I have undertaken since the final assessment of the final course. I could say it was because of my Father dying in March, or work stress; but the only real explanation is moving house and the unsettling effect that has had on me and my writing.

It took me a long time to create my writing space in my current home and to feel comfortable - to bed in the act of writing as a ritual which suited me. Now we await exchange of contracts, searching for the moving company and all the phone calls to the utilities and authorities before we land in the next sanctuary. It is hard to sit and wonder about a characters reaction or what he/she thinks about another character when you are thinking about whether you have enough boxes or you are (as I am right now) surrounded by boxes of books securely packed and labelled.

So I am on hold; my characters in FADE are frozen at the bridge awaiting the play button to be pushed. I am not blocked because every now and then there is a whisper or change of temperature around me which hints that something is nudging, trying to break through. The tiredness I am feeling is partly down to holding it back and partly to the tooing and froing or estate agents, contracts and whether the shrubs at the front of the house breach covenants placed on the land before I was born....(sigh!)

I keep telling myself it will happen. We will move, unpack, redecorate, settle in and then, in an office much bigger than the one I am currently in, I shall shake off the paralysis and begin again. But at least for now I have posted...which is good.

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