37: Idea Mist
I entered a short story competition last week. The story I entered was the first piece of fiction I've ever put anywhere near the career part of my life. I wrote it quickly out of nothing, and it reminded me of writing in school. Our creative writing classes were always silent. For 55 minutes I had the time and space to write absolutely anything I wanted. I wrote so many short stories then, and I can't get my head around how I had so many ideas, and where all the unused ones went. A couple of my friends told me every week that they hated those classes. For them it was almost an hour of a clock ticking, a blank page. At the moment, I can sympathise: that's how my days feel. I've been stuck for a while, no ideas, no motivation. So writing a story and sending it to a competition was more surprising to me than to anyone else. I don't know how it happened.
But it did. And that has proven that I can do it again. What a sneaky trick.
If you tipped me via Ko-fi last week, thank you very much. I used that money to pay the competition entry fees.
Other stuff:
I very much enjoyed this story about Find + Foster cidermakers. There's a lot of emphasis on fruit harvesting. I seem to be into that sort of thing these days.
A great story about everyone's favourite beer. Spoiler alert: it's Keller Pils.
Thank you to Olly for sharing this earlier in the week -- how Ultrarunners are pushing the limits of human endurance.
Read this and weep, at it's beauty and it's content. Night Swim by Anne Enright.
I just want some of these Sonoran flour tortillas. With pollo asado in.
I really enjoyed this newsletter by Isabelle O'Carroll and I think you will too. Don't forget to subscribe if you're into it.
A real shop filled with real things you'd swear were pretend. Obviously I quite like the occult socks, but the indoors/outdoors hats are doing it for me, and the candle that smells of deadlines might be more useful.
I baked "dirt bombs" this week, along with everyone else on the internet, and you should too.
I can't remember now how I got to reading a book review from 2013 but I did, and it's great.
This story was so good, so amazingly and amusingly good that I spent a good hour reading it then thinking about it afterwards. It's about a homeless man called Dominic Van Allen and the underground bunker he built under Hamptstead Heath. But obviously it's also about much more than that.
I'm sure you've read this before on "digital blackface" but it is well worth reading again, as Bethany Rutter pointed out today.
A story -- ignore the word "Christmas" if you must -- about meeting Truman Capote's Aunt Tiny. It's a fascinating read I pick up every few months, then get into a Capote frenzy. "When I leave her home after about five hours of talking, I go out to my rental car and put my head in my hands — pulverized. I’ve got a great story. But it’s not the one the newspaper wants. And it will be a long time before I can tell it."
Another great story from Bitter Southerner. This one is about steamed ham and swiss cheese hoagies, and childhood, and a deep sentimental love for soft bread, and it's so touching, and I swear I read the whole thing in a Knoxville accent without even realising it.
My Stuff:
I've been working on a few things this week (hurray) but nothing new to share here yet.
I'm going to Cologne next week for the natural wine fair there unless the government strictly forbids it. If you're going too, let me know so we can drink something nice together.
I'm very excited to be brewing at Thornbridge tomorrow with the legendary Alice Batham!
I'm also very excited to be brewing with Cloudwater and the very brilliant Charlotte Cook next week!
Idea Mist, Pretend Store