Notebook, greens, two things can be true

Approximately-weekly news, #62

I have been to Gladstone’s Library, where the weather was hot, and the company was balm, and the ideas danced. With no beach to hand, I walked in the park and the churchyard, where I thought about how many shades of green and stone there are in the world.

I realise I’ve never been to Gladstone’s when I haven’t been under some sort of pressure - either a looming deadline, or a busy diary that means I MUSTMUSTMUST write many thousands of words this week, or running a retreat, which is always a delight, but means that my time is not my own (and rightly so).

This time, I was spending time thinking about my new novel.

Actually, no, that’s not quite right.

I’ve been thinking about this novel for more than a year, and it’s a story I’m really keen to tell.

So it’s more accurate to say I was doing the first of the mark-making. I was sketching out a plan, making character notes*, writing some scenes. I worked in longhand, for a change: it felt like a licence to play, to not fix too soon, which I think the typewritten document can invite us to do.

I did not give myself any targets, apart from, leave knowing what this novel wants to be, and feeling ready to write it. I came away with that and more. I cannot WAIT to get properly stuck in.**

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In other novel news, the New Book (the one that’s coming out next year) has gone off to copy-edit. When I get it back I’ll have a chance to fix all of the things that I didn’t know I’d been unclear about, and also, will be forced to finally decide on the ages of two of my main characters, who are variously 22, 23 and 26 within the six-month span of the story. (Age Maths is the worst.)

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I promise to get on to Not Writing in a moment, but first, I thought you might like to look at the first page of my new notebook, on which I have drawn a tree and written some of the lyrics of the first song that came to mind.***

I do this because a new notebook for an important project can be an intimidating thing. I’m not good at drawing, and I didn’t think too much about the song. So by doing this on the first page I have given myself permission to be inexpert and to not overthink things. (Also gave myself an earworm, which wasn’t the intention, but when Olivia Newton John calls, what can you do?)

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September looms. Even though I am 54 I will want to buy a new pencil-case. And I’m not the only one who gets the back-to-school feeling: every year at this time I’m swamped with requests for edits, manuscript assessments, and mentoring. Hooray!

So - a word to the wise: if you might want us to work together between now and January, this is a good time to message me so we can have a chat and book something in. You’ll find details of what I do here, and by enquiring you don’t commit yourself to anything at all.

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I had a funny little moment a couple of weeks ago.

I woke before 6am, and knew that I wouldn’t get back to sleep, so I went outside and sat in the garden in my pyjamas with (of course) a cup of tea. I watched the birds doing their Important Morning Business, and I listened to the tractors trundling past, and I looked at the things that are growing, very often in spite of me rather than because of me.

And I thought: I am happy.

I realised that I haven’t been happy for a long time. The last time would have been in June 2023, before we got the diagnosis of my best friend’s terminal cancer.

Since then I’ve had a lot of good times. I’ve enjoyed things, and I’ve had fun, and I’ve spent time with people I love. I’ve been to some excellent places, and laughed a lot, and celebrated birthdays and marriages, and found fulfilment and joy in my work and my home. Sitting in the collective quiet of a Quaker Meeting for Worship is often a place of peace for me, and somewhere I feel held. (You can read about my journey to becoming a Quaker here.) I’ve hung out with my children and felt so glad of the lives they are making. And of course a moment spent with BMB is never wasted.

But to be happy - to have a quiet moment in which grief did not rush in - felt like something new.

Lou’s life, and her death, showed me again and again that it is possible to live in the overlap of contrasting emotions: that life can be happy and sad, difficult and liberating, frustrating and fun. Where I was always looking for absolutes - often, especially in my twenties, veering between perfectionism and despair - she had a pragmatism and acceptance that I didn’t fully see until her last months.

I think she would be proud to see me realise that I can miss her right to my bones, and that I always will, but it is possible to do that, and to be happy too.

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I have finished knitting something rather beautiful. Proper pics next time - but for now, look at how I matched it to my manicure, without realising! (I can knit while doing most things, but having my nails done is not one of them.)

Until next week, friends, be well.

Stephanie x

*always including what is this character most afraid of?, because we writers are Not Always Nice.

**I will wait a tiny bit, because this week is BMB’s birthday, and I’m reading an excellent manuscript for assessment, and though later in a book I can dip in and out quite easily, at the beginning I like to give myself a stretch of time.

***It’s this absolute banger. Yes, these people are supposed to be high school pupils. Yes, the message is ‘want to be loved? change everything about yourself'!’ Honestly, it’s a miracle any of us are normal.