ON WRITING - Nothing good rhymes with Charlotte

Let’s talk about overwhelm

21/06/2023 by Charlotte 2 Comments

The problem with not having written for a while, is that getting started again feels like a big deal. But, like anything, the only way to get started is to start, so here I am.

I realised that part of the reason I haven’t prioritised writing, is because I’ve been feeling quite overwhelmed for the past six months or so. Not by anything bad, thankfully, but nonetheless overwhelmed by life as it currently looks and feels for us. I’ve spoken to friends and it sounds like everybody feels the same way. The reasons may differ, but the general sense of permanent overwhelm seems to be the norm for us all now. Adulthood’s a right laugh, isn’t it.

But then I realised that, for me, writing is a great way to help deal with overwhelm. It’s how I get my thoughts in order, and it also gives me a precious slice of time to myself. So, during the last couple of weeks, I’ve started taking ten minutes every evening after the children have gone to bed, to write whatever I like.

It feels so good to re-establish a healthy habit. It’s really helped me work out where my head’s at, and it led to this – a list of my top four reasons for feeling overwhelmed. Perhaps you can relate. What would your list say, I wonder?

THE IMMENSE AMOUNT OF LOVE CHILDREN HAVE TO GIVE

Oh yeah, I’m starting big here. We talk a lot about the immeasurable amount of love we have for our children. About what it feels like to have your heart smashed across the floor the second they’re born, and how you never recover. But we talk less about what it feels like to be loved by them. About how they come into this world BURSTING with love to give us. About how I’ll be innocently going about my day, tidying up after breakfast, and then I’ll suddenly stumble upon a picture my daughter’s made at school of a rainbow, with ‘To Shareloot, I luve you’ written on it, in her gorgeous five-year-old handwriting. (And yes, I am tempted to change this blog’s name to ‘Nothing good rhymes with Shareloot’ now).

I find lists of all the people she loves, notes telling us we’re the best, and teeny tiny stick babies added into scenes to represent her little brother. I have piles and piles of the purest, most colourful, misspelled love, and neither a heart nor a home that can cope with it all.

She doesn’t even hand these things to me. I think they’re forgotten as soon as they’re drawn. But it’s knowing that we’re always on her mind that I find so incredible and overwhelming. I’m both touched and terrified because what if she doesn’t know that I feel it? What if she doesn’t believe the love is truly received? Perhaps I should draw her a picture myself to let her know.

And her brother’s the same. He can’t write or draw yet, but he shows love by wanting to sit with us. By singing to us. By pointing us out to other people and saying our names, in case they didn’t realise we’re his parents. By shouting his sister’s name from the minute he wakes up in the morning until the moment he finally gives in and goes to sleep again at night. I’ve never met a boy who asks for cuddles so regularly. I hate that I can’t always say an immediate yes.

I’ve been listening to a lot of Adele, and there’s a line in ‘I drink wine’ where she says ‘Everybody wants something from me / You just want me’ and it overwhelms me every time. I’m not sure if she was writing specifically about my family, but MAN it feels like it.

It’s the most amazing thing, to be loved by these little people. Such a beautiful thing can also be overwhelming. It contributes to how much your heart weighs, wherever you might be, and whatever you’re doing. It holds me up and gives me more purpose than anything ever has, and it also leaves me breathless out of the blue, when all I thought I was doing was clearing the dining room table.

THE SHEER AMOUNT OF ADMIN INVOLVED WITH BEING ALIVE

I noticed that I’d quit resting (despite specifically writing at the start of the year about how important rest is). There’s just so much to do all the time – and we’re only a family of four, and I work part-time.

The level of washing involved with having a family is absurd. I am grateful for every hour of summer we get because I can put it outside and create some much needed space between me and our collective sheets/t-shirts/pants. Just when I think maybe I’m getting on top of it, something or someone will explode, and I’m back to square one. I do so much of it, I almost wonder if I’m a bit obsessed with it. Like, when a new stain appears, I’m excited to see if between us, the sun and I can make it disappear. It’s pathetic, but also a method for dealing with the overwhelm. The pile’s not going away, so I may as well get a sense of achievement from tackling it.

And beyond the laundry, there’s everything else. All of the things we need to remember for school, the birthdays, the parties, and the general management of my daughter’s social calendar. The buying of food, the making of food, and the throwing away of rejected food. The deep sense of failure I feel when I hear people talk about how much their toddlers eat, when our son only really eats croissants. The insane cost of EVERYTHING. The effort involved with finding a date in the diary to do anything with anyone. The volume of crumbs we live amongst. Bathtime, bedtime, and the irony of being the only one these activities seem to tire out. The bins. The cleaning or lack thereof. The bit where I strip the bed at 7am and only remember that I need to remake it at 11pm…

The list is long – as it is for everyone – and it makes my head a very noisy and cluttered place. I’m trying to stop more often, to avoid burnout or resentment. Perhaps putting ‘REST’ on my to-do list is the answer because that’s the only way anything gets done around here.

THE RELENTLESS PASSING OF TIME

I talk about this a lot, I know. But I continue to be overwhelmed everyday by how quickly time goes by.

Our son is about to turn two, and our daughter is just a few weeks away from finishing Reception. They remain very young children, but still, they are growing up at a faster rate than I was prepared for. It is unlikely that we will have more babies, and so every stage our son goes through is probably happening here for the last time. The babygrows have gone, his little bath seat is now in the garage, and we all know his highchair’s days are numbered.

You think this stuff will be part of your world forever, and then it gradually makes its way to the tip or the charity shop. It’s all so fleeting. I’m overwhelmed by the need to make the most of the many, many good bits. I’m also still floored everyday by how confusing it feels to find yourself wishing away the tough moments that happen during your child’s youngest, cutest years.

And it’s not just the years with our children that are shooting by, our years with each other are too. It’s 20 years this summer since I left school and started university. I’ve known some of my dearest friends since long before the internet was invented. Leon and I will have been married for ten years in September, and together for 18. These are some seriously grown up, long-term relationships we’re all in now.

When we were planning our wedding, it felt like that event would always be part of our lives, we couldn’t imagine life after it. And now a decade has passed and that day is just one of hundreds we’ve lived through together. A beautiful one, but one of many beautiful ones. A lovely memory to look back on, ten years into this glorious, busy, surprising, and overwhelming life we’ve built since.

THE AGEING PROCESS

Mothers have an interesting challenge to manage. On the one hand, we need to promote body positivity with our children, and make sure they’re nothing but kind to themselves and to others. And on the other, we have to navigate the reality of our own ageing and changing bodies, and the vast array of emotions that come with it.

I feel nothing but kind and gentle in the face of my children’s bodies, of course. But when it comes to my own, it’s more complicated. It’s changed a lot in recent years. I’ve been pregnant and given birth twice, and I’ve stepped further and further into my thirties. I feel fortunate to have been through it all, but I’ve found the acceptance process overwhelming, particularly this year. No matter how high the waistband or how effective the eye cream, there really is no going back.

I’ll turn 38 in a few weeks’ time, and I’ve definitely hit the reflective period Caitlin Moran talks about in her book ‘More Than a Woman’. She describes how you find yourself looking back on pictures from a decade ago, when you thought you looked bad, and wondering what on earth you were on about, you looked great!

I don’t speak unkindly about the way I look in front of my children. When they see me put on make-up and they ask why, I say it’s because I want to. When my daughter says she likes my clothes, I say thank you and accept the compliment. I will not let her hear my internal dialogue, because that wouldn’t be helpful to either of us.

I think it’s OK to feel how you feel and know that it’s normal to go through ups and down in your relationship with your appearance. I think it’s also important to remember why we use such kind voices when we talk about our children and how they look. Because everybody deserves to feel happy in their skin. And that includes us.

Life is a series of chapters. I’m sure many people feel overwhelmed by the transition from the Baby Carrying chapter into whatever we call the next one. The Gradually Greyer chapter, perhaps?

As always, it’s ours to write. And I look forward to writing mine, more often, right here.

Intentions for 2022 and beyond

02/01/2022 by Charlotte 2 Comments

To avoid the ‘I’ll be happy when…’ trap

We bought a house in June. It’s great to be here, there’s just lots to do to bring it up to date.

Ever since we arrived we’ve been having rooms decorated and bathrooms renovated. And I noticed early on that when a project has such an endless to-do list, it’s tempting to let your own impatience prevent you from feeling happy with progress.

I had to stop myself thinking ‘If only we could get the bedrooms painted, then I’ll be happy’ and then as soon as that was done ‘Ok, now we need the downstairs loo done, then I can be content’.

If I sign up to that way of thinking, I’ll deny myself happiness… forever? Houses are never really finished, are they.

No, I cannot wait to get the eighties kitchen out and modern fittings in. And yes, toilets made this century will enhance our lives. But I’m not going to hate my house until it’s all done. I refuse to lose sight of how much I love how far we’ve come.

To keep celebrating the little things

For the first six months of 2021, I wrote a list everyday in my diary called ‘Today’s good things’. (We then moved house and had a baby. I’ve hardly had time to go to the toilet since then let alone write anything down).

I’d pick out a handful of reasons to be grateful for the day we’d just had. I did it to boost my morale during lockdown, and to remind me that even when life feels tough, there’s always good stuff going on too.

I felt quite emotional reading it back. I’d noted down so many little things that meant that, despite the context, we were lucky and happy. Fresh air featured a lot, as did cuddles with our daughter. On one day I ended with ‘Just how much we love her’. Aside from mentions of life changing stuff like house move progress and baby scans and kicks, most things were small, everyday moments I wanted to cling to.

It helped at the time and it’s a lovely thing to look back on. So I’m going to do it again for 2022. Our son is already growing up too quickly so I want to write down all the ways he brings me joy. As long as he lets me sleep I’m sure I’ll have the energy to pick up a pen again.

To speak to myself more kindly

Anxiety and I will live alongside one another forever I’m sure. But when my inner dialogue and I work as a team, that’s when I get to win.

I haven’t done so well on that front lately. I found a note I wrote whilst trying to work through a worry which said “Anxiety makes you feel small and insignificant but also massive and in the way”. And that’s the problem. It skews your view of yourself and the world to such an extent that it makes it difficult to have the rational, helpful thoughts that would make it go away.

So I want to keep working on that inner voice.

My excellent friend Alexa Radcliffe-Hart wrote this great blog about selecting a word to guide you through the year. I think I’m going with ‘Deserving’ for mine. Of space, kindness, rest, choice. It’s what I want my children to believe about themselves, so I need to model it myself.

To be truly present when I can, and kinder to myself when I can’t

The combination of being a worrier, planner, and a parent means I find it hard to live in the moment. But I’m definitely happier when I do, so I’m trying to make it more of a habit.

I’m learning to spot opportunities to let go and just play with my daughter or walk at her pace or cuddle the baby. We don’t always have to be moving towards the next thing.

…but we do sometimes. So when I have to keep half my head in the future, planning for the next snack/meal/nap/absurdly large load of washing, I need to forgive myself for it. I’m doing my best.

To read more

This will be my goal forever. I think I read about seven or eight of my books in 2021 (plus 4000 children’s books). It’s not a contest, just something I enjoy so I intend to do more of it. Even just a page a day is worth having.

To keep writing what I feel like writing

If it brings value to you (and it doesn’t hurt anybody) there is value in whatever you feel like producing. That’s what I tell myself every time I sit down to write.

I get so much from writing – whether it’s in a notebook to clear my mind, or published here. So I’m going to keep doing it when I can.

It occurred to me at the end of the year that this blog started as a simple creative outlet, then it became a series of what are essentially love letters. To my husband, my friends, my family, myself, and, more recently, to my children.

I look forward to writing many more.

I hope you will do more of what you love in 2022. Happy New Year, and thanks for reading.

Creativity: What to do with all that crippling self-doubt

27/08/2017 by Charlotte 2 Comments

What to do with all that crippling self doubt I fell into a pit of despair and self-doubt this week. And I didn’t even see it coming.

I wrote a blog that I was proud of and that I’d been thinking about for some time. But the minute I hit ‘publish’ I felt absolutely ridiculous. Like, who the HELL did I think I was? Who wants to hear what I have to say? I couldn’t believe I’d had the audacity to put myself out there.

I seriously considered chucking it all in – closing down the blog, quitting my writing pursuits, and taking up bird watching or whatever. I just wanted to crawl into a hole and pretend I’d never even tried.

Dramatic enough for you? Well it certainly felt that way.

A few days on, I can look back and see what was going on there. But in the moment it was the most horrific feeling. So for anyone experiencing the same thing – and as a reminder for myself next time this happens – let’s break down why self-doubt occurs and what we should make of it.

At least it proves how much you care

There aren’t many things that bring out this level of emotion in us. I remember feeling a similar sense of self-loathing when being rejected by men. But at least I could tell myself that eventually I’d find somebody else (you know, once I’d got all the listening to power ballads/analysing their text messages/threatening to leave the country, out of the way).

But when it comes to creativity, there is no ‘somebody else’. Writing is what I want to do. I can’t go to a club and meet another calling, can I?! (Just pausing for a minute there to try and remember the last time I went to a club and I can’t. Does visiting a very noisy branch of Currys count?)

But this acknowledgement is a good thing. This feeling means you care because you’re doing what you want to do. The turmoil may feel awful, but it’s a sure sign of your determination to succeed. And that’s something to be proud of. Most people are still trying to figure that bit out.

Creativity is always going to feel audacious

Nobody asks you to put yourself out there. Yes, an editor might ask you to write an article, or a director might invite you to an audition. But they probably only did it because you said you had something to offer in the first place.

Telling the world that you’ve gone ahead and created something is always going to feel audacious. Because in order to do that, you have to believe in yourself. You have to have dedicated real, personal time to a project that you think is worthwhile. And with every creation comes the risk that people won’t be interested in it. There’s no way around it. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t, it just means you shouldn’t feel bad for finding the process scary.

What do you know anyway?

I wrote just a couple of weeks ago (see, I don’t even listen to my own advice) that a lot of the time you’ll never even know what people think of your work. Just because you put something out there, it doesn’t mean people are obliged to respond. Editors don’t have to reply to pitches. Record labels aren’t required to say whether they enjoyed your song. And people on Facebook didn’t sign a contract saying they would always ‘like’ your updates.

But that doesn’t mean your work is bad. Or that people didn’t appreciate it. They may well have done. You might have had the most profound impact on somebody, they just didn’t tell you. And what does it matter if what you wrote/made/sang only touched three people? Is it only volume that makes something worthwhile? I don’t think so. It’s called starting out, and nobody gets to avoid that stage I’m afraid.

Maybe they’re not your audience, but somebody else will be

Obviously we’re not all doing this for fun – many of us need to make a living from creativity – so we have to find an audience for our work.

I’ve experienced a lot of silence recently. I’ve sent numerous pitches and ideas and, in most cases, heard nothing back. And when that happens it’s easy to think it’s because you have nothing to offer and should quit trying. But that’s not true.

I know from experience that a ‘yes’ always comes in the end. You just have to find an alternative target. So your energy should go into discovering who that should be, rather than feeling like a failure for having an empty inbox.

Take that emotion and put it into your work

All that dramatic energy conjured up with your self-doubt needs to be put to good use. So chuck it back into your projects.

Since finally managing to remove my head from my arse and remember why I do this writing thing, I’ve managed to get back on it. For one thing, I’ve written this. One of my favourite things about writing is that it can help make other people who are like you feel better. I don’t know if it will be of use to anyone, of course, I’m not telepathic. But I see value in it, so it’s worth a shot. And worst case scenario, working through this thought process on the page has done me some good. And I’ve had some right nice snacks whilst I’ve done it.

I’m trying to tell myself that if I can just channel all that turmoil into my blogs/pitches/ideas, I’ll be well away. So bring it on, soul-crushing feelings of anguish and distress, I’m going to make my MILLIONS from you (or something like that…)

Remember: Self pity is no use to you

I wrote recently about the excellent book Big Magic and the many lessons Elizabeth Gilbert teaches about how to avoid letting fear stop you being creative. And amongst them is the fact that self pity gets you nowhere. Feeling sorry for yourself because something you wrote doesn’t prove popular, or because your idea gets rejected, doesn’t help you make any progress at all.

Of course, it’s important to take time to feel how you feel – pretending otherwise is even more exhausting than the self-doubt itself. But once you’ve expressed it, it helps to get your eyes back on the prize and to know that only keeping going will get you where you want to be.

Sometimes just meeting your own needs is enough

I need to write, I do. Some people get creative in the garden, other people take on major physical feats, but for me it’s writing that makes me feel most together. I mean, I hate it too. I despise it. Oh my goodness, the to-ing and fro-ing with an article, the hot hot heat of a lap permanently populated by a laptop, the utter disparity between how phenomenal an idea sounds in my head and how it reads on the page. It’s torture. But a torture I can’t live without, apparently.

So maybe that’s enough. If creativity gives you what you need to get by, that in itself has to make it worthwhile. All the better if people read/laugh//listen/watch/whatever. But if it’s bringing something meaningful into your life, you can’t deny that it has value.

So that’s what I’ll be telling my self-doubt when it inevitably sets in again. Probably about three minutes after I hit publish on this blog, the bastard.

Hit the f*ck it button: On finding the courage to just do it anyway

13/08/2017 by Charlotte 2 Comments

One of my very best friends uses an excellent phrase that I’ve been adopting more and more in my everyday life.

She calls it ‘Hitting the f*ck it button’.

You do it when you’re just DONE. Done worrying, done being afraid, and done doing what you think everybody expects you to do. You hit the f*ck it button and find the courage to see where it takes you.

And mate, it’s a great button. I encourage you to bring it into your life.

I realise I’m using it every time something SCARES THE LIVING SHITE OUT OF ME but I do it anyway. Let me give you some examples of where it’s really come in handy.

This one time, I met my husband.

I was NOT in the mood the night I met Leon. But it was a friend’s birthday and the last night of the second year at university so, sure, I went out. My friends had been telling me how great this guy was for ages and I remained cynical. I’d met guys before and they’d not always been so great. But BOLLOCKS TO IT, I thought, I can say hi. So I walked up to him, tapped him on the shoulder and said hello. Such behaviour was profoundly out of character for me, but I’d hit the button. I had nothing to lose and, as it turned out, absolutely everything to gain.

Another time, I buggered off to Australia for a bit.

Two years ago, my husband had the opportunity to go and work abroad for a few weeks. And I was just about to be between jobs so I decided to go with him. It felt insane as I didn’t know what I’d do when we got back, but when else were we going to go to AUSTRALIA? I rang my friend – coiner of the ‘f*ck it button’ – to ask if it was a good idea. She said “Well, you rang me, so you’re clearly looking for a yes because OBVIOUSLY that’s what I’ll say”. (Isn’t it funny how who we choose to go to for advice tells us everything we need to know about the advice we’re looking to hear?). So I found the courage, hit that button and I went. And it remains some of the most fun I’ve ever had.

We decided to try and have a baby.

If you thought too much about having a baby, I swear nobody would ever do it. Like, if you really considered in detail the likely pain and discomfort and the lifetime of WORRY, how would anybody find the courage? So, this is where the button comes in handy. I knew we wanted to have a baby (and that we were in as good a position as possible in our lives to go for it etc. etc.) so I couldn’t let fear get in the way. I told myself I would worry about the detail of the birth and parenthood once the baby was in existence. And now, here we are. I’m 25 weeks pregnant and taking it day by day.

I took up freelance writing.

Sometimes I have lots of work and sometimes I have none. And the only way I can get more work is by putting myself out there. By coming up with ideas and sending them out to people. By gathering the courage to email strangers to ask if they’d like to give me money in exchange for words. And apart from the message I write in my correspondence I have no control over what they think of me. There is every chance that every one of them will think I am a moron. But if I DON’T contact anybody, I’ll get nowhere. So every week I hit that button and I keep on trying.

It really is a marvellous device and I’m proud of myself every time I push it.

Thank goodness for Big Magic

Another excellent woman who encourages similar behaviour is Elizabeth Gilbert who wrote Big Magic – Creativity Beyond Fear.

I love reading books and articles designed to give you the courage to be braver, and this one had the most profound impact. The combination of this book and the knowledge that the best things in life happen when you hit the f*ck it button have given me the courage I needed to be bolder.

Big Magic is about not letting fear stop you from doing what you want to do, and creating what you want to create. I took so much from this book but these are my favourite lessons:

Do it because you love it – everything else that comes of it is a bonus.
If you don’t pursue your great idea, before long somebody else will.
You have to accept that fear will inevitably always be with you. You just can’t let it guide your decisions.
Anything bad for you is bad for your work (with the exception of Jaffa Cakes, I’m assuming).
If you get a no, move on and offer your idea/work/whatever to someone else.
Done is better than perfect.
OF COURSE you have the right to be creative, you have that by just being alive. You don’t need anybody’s permission.
Don’t worry about being original, be authentic.
Don’t actively try to write something that helps people. Just write and if it helps then GREAT.

If you’re following any kind of creative dream, I really recommend reading it. If nothing else, you’ll find you’re suddenly out of excuses not to give whatever you want to do a try.

Fear is boring, because fear only ever has one thing to say to us, and that thing is: ‘STOP!'” – Elizabeth Gilbert

Getting older has given me feel a much greater, more urgent need to be brave. Because with everyday that I’m not, it’s only me that loses out.

So I’m going to keep Big Magic’s lessons front of mind, and I’m going to carry on creating without fear (or at least without paying too much attention to fear). And I’m going to keep on hitting that beloved f*ck it button.

Because life just keeps getting more interesting every time I do.

12 lessons I’ve learnt from six years of blogging

06/08/2017 by Charlotte Leave a Comment

I started blogging because I felt like a writer with nowhere to write, so in the absence of a garden big enough for a shed, I built a blog instead.

And six years on, I’m still here. It’s nice having a record of how I’ve grown up, developed my writing, and got my head around various thoughts, feelings and life events.

People sometimes ask me questions about what blogging involves, so I thought I’d share some lessons. If you have more questions after reading this, please do ask them. All (kind) forms of correspondence are always welcome.

1. People are not that nice

If people read what you’ve written it’s because they want to read it. If they don’t want to they won’t. It’s as simple as that. People might give you a supportive click or two at the beginning to help you on your way. But when you’re a few months or years down the line, no matter how close a friend/sister/pet they are, they simply won’t open your blog unless they’re interested. And that’s a good thing. Pity reads are no use to anyone.

2. Most of the time, you simply won’t know what people think

Unless you’re planning to go door to door, asking all your acquaintances if they did or did not click on the link to your latest post about the highs and lows of using a chemical toilet (a real post I remain deeply proud of), you won’t know. You might get a like or a comment from a keen and kind reader but there’s no obligation for people to give you feedback.

And you’re also very unlikely to get personalised notes from everyone who doesn’t fancy reading your stuff. Anybody who does send you such a note needs to reconsider how they use their time. Speaking of which…

3. A few people reeeeally aren’t that nice

As women messing about on the internet go, I’ve been pretty lucky on the troll front. I’ve only ever had two very nasty comments left on this blog. And although I will remember them forever, I think they did me good. Because if you’re going to write on the regular and put it out there for people to read, you need to develop a thick skin. (If only, most of the time, to deal with the deafening silence that can follow once you’ve hit publish.)

You can’t spend your time being worried about what a troll might say. The post that encouraged OUTRAGE from my bridge-dweller was about why I recommend giving your partner a sufficient number of bedroom drawers to store their pants. He/she told me to ‘PLEASE shut my f***ing blog down’. Sorry, friend. No chance. Where else are people to go for such innovative life advice?

4. Only time will teach you what you’ve really got to say

It’s taken me years to develop my writing style and tone. There was no other way to do it than to just get on and DO IT. I’m not claiming to have nailed it, I just know how I like to write now. And I continue to enjoy experimenting with it, pushing the odd boundary, and finding new ways to express myself. Your blog is your house and you have the floor so use it to get it wrong, get it right, and enjoy yourself along the way.

5. Thanks to blogging, I will never be bored

You know when you used to have to fill in the bit on your CV about your hobbies and scrabble around for something to say that wasn’t ‘Watching re-runs of Friends’ and ‘Debating which are the tastiest members of the Percy Pig family’? Well, now I have blogging. Hanging out in my house on my own is never a problem as I can just grab a notebook or my laptop and see what I’ve got to say. What a treat! Or, equally as fun, I can lie around thinking about writing, and then not actually ever get around to it. That’s when you know you’re becoming a true professional…

6. You have more time than you think

People have different views about how frequently you should blog. I think you should do it whenever you can and you want to. Some people run sites which have advertising and content commitments requiring them to post on a particular basis, but the rest of us can do as we please.

For us it’s just about finding time, and what I’ve learnt is that if you want to do it, you will find the hours you need. Sundays are my usual day for writing, but sometimes I do a little on another day, or I have a whole week off, or I’m inspired to write three posts at once. I think it’s best just not to put too much pressure on the whole thing. Your writing will be much better if you’re doing it because you want to.

7.Your blog may not become your job, but it might help you get other ones

I get asked a lot about blogging and money making, and this is what I say: This blog is not my job, it’s my hobby, it’s where I come to be creative, and it’s also where I store my portfolio, which I use to seek paid writing work. Although the blog itself doesn’t generally make me money (I’ve only ever done one sponsored post with a brand that fitted in with my subject matter), it has helped me get other jobs.

In order to make money directly from a blog on a regular basis, you need a clear niche that advertisers/sponsors etc. can support. Only you can know your motivations for running a blog, but it strikes me that the most successful ones – whether in terms of reads or money made – came about because people wanted to speak about a particular subject they’re passionate about, and then the rest followed.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d be delighted to bring home more dollar thanks to this baby, but I don’t ever want to compromise what the site is for. It’s for honest posts and chats about what it is to be human. (So if you’re a brand that’ll let me chat about that in return for some ££ and a mention, give a girl a call!)

8. You don’t have to be a web designer, you just need patience

Building a blog can be as difficult or as simple as you make it. I started out on Google Blogger as it was free and easy to use, and then as I got a bit more serious about it and wanted my own url, I moved over to this self-hosted WordPress site. It’s not fancy and there’s lots more I’d like to do with it, but it will do just fine, and I can change it any time I want to (read: can find the strength).

You just have to decide what you want the site to do, and then to work away at bringing it about. I recommend having a cushion set aside specifically for screaming into whilst you build. Believe me, you’ll need it.

9. You’ll realise there are hundreds of people just like you

Blogging has opened up a whole new world of people and events I never knew I’d enjoy. It made me realise how much I love writing, learning about writing, and meeting people equally excited about all things pen and paper. I’m part of the Mumsnet Bloggers Network and have been to their annual Blogfest three times (my baby is due in November, when Blogfest is usually held, so unless this year’s event is happening in a maternity ward, I’m going to have to give it a miss). And I’ve been to other blogging workshops and talks about creativity that have taught me new things and inspired the sh*t out of me. And I can’t recommend that feeling enough.

10. Other people will do much better at blogging and you won’t know why

Why a blog is or is not popular can sometimes be obvious and can sometimes totally throw you. I find that if I think I’ve written something good, it’ll fall flat as a pancake. And if I struggle through a post and end up publishing just to justify the hours of blood, sweat and tears I’ve put into it – even if I think the entire thing is pointless and so am I – people will like it. So what do I know.

I think what’s most important is just to keep writing what you want to write. Authentic posts are always the best. Any likes and shares and whatnot they score the writer have to just be a bonus.

11. Writing something people relate to is a high like no other

Having said that, there’s no denying the utter joy of penning something other people can relate to. Something that makes them say ‘This is what I’ve been thinking but couldn’t articulate’ or ‘IT’S LIKE YOU’RE IN MY BRAIN’ or ‘Are you actually monitoring my thoughts because this is so in line with them that I’m genuinely FRIGHTENED’. I cannot pretend that such comments do not fill me up because they do.

12. Writing feeds your soul

I’ve written regularly for so long now that if I take too much of a break, I start to feel uncomfortable. It’s become a crucial part of how I figure out what I think about different subjects. Lots of people say it but it’s true – I often don’t really know what I think about something until I start writing about it. It’s the cheapest therapy I’ll ever undertake and I’d hate to be without it.

This game isn’t for everyone. Most people would rather tear their hair out than spend their free hours talking to themselves through a computer screen. But we’re not most people, are we? This blog may not have made me a millionaire or anything close to one, but it has taught me more about myself and the world than I ever could have expected. And for that I will always be grateful.

So here’s to another year of Nothing good rhymes with Charlotte. Knowing how livid this site’s continued existence would make our darling troll makes each anniversary all the more worth celebrating.

La La Land: Seven lessons you learn when following your dreams

18/01/2017 by Charlotte Leave a Comment

20170114_150307 I don’t always love musicals. I tend to want everyone in them to calm down. But not this time. I loved everything about La La Land: the singing, the dancing, the romance, and ohmyword the soundtrack. (For those in pursuit of joy: it’s on Spotify).

I also loved that this is a film about following your dreams, the ridiculousness involved with putting yourself out there, and the compromises you have to make to get what you want (granted with more dancing than I’d considered incorporating before, but maybe it’d help?).

It’s funny, one moment you’re laughing in the face of inspirational quotes, clicking away from articles offering career advice, and declaring war on anybody who talks about being ‘meant’ to do a particular job, and then all of a sudden you’re every single one of those guys rolled into one. I blame age – it makes the need to enjoy your life feel so much more pressing.

Whatever your aim – mine is writing for a living – you learn a lot whilst trying to make it happen. So for anyone considering chasing a dream, here are some of the lessons I’ve learnt so far, and I’m sure there will be plenty more to come…

1.You have to learn to SAY it.

What do you say when somebody asks what you do? Or when they ask how the writing/comedy/acting/photography is going? Perhaps you’re more naturally confident than I am, in which case GOOD KEEP THAT UP, but if not, you have to find the courage to answer this question properly.

On the inside I’m absolutely obsessed with writing, with being published, with coming up with new ideas, and with getting better at it. But because there are so many people doing it, and so many versions of what ‘good’ looks like, I’m afraid of looking like a fraud or somebody pursuing a pipe dream. BUT what I’ve learnt is this: a) I’m not either of those things and b) Even if you feel that way, you have to learn to act like you don’t. People won’t give you work or recommend you if you’re too afraid to even say what you want, and you won’t feel confident enough to try if you don’t hear it from your own mouth. And anyway, the more you speak to people, the more ideas you’ll get, so you need to do it. People are asking how it’s going because they’re interested, so take a deep breath and have the chat.

2. A ‘Yes’ strategy is a good place to start

You never know where opportunities are going to lead you, so when you’re starting out and you don’t have any or much work, saying yes to what comes your way isn’t a bad strategy. Of course, there are caveats here – make sure it’s something you want to do, that you’re happy with the money, and that you have the space and time to do it. I just mean that it doesn’t have to be precisely what you want to do in the long term from the start, as the experience will still come in handy. At worst, it’ll teach you what you don’t want which is also a useful lesson.

3. Someone in the crowd could be the one you need to know

Yep, I’ve had that song in my head for days and now you will too. Meeting people, speaking to strangers on the phone, and generally going out into the world and saying “You don’t know me but here’s my heart and soul, want to buy it?” is a necessary part of trying to build a business or a career for yourself. Do not be afraid of this. It is 100% worth it and often fun. And anyway, there is simply no way around it; the odds of somebody coming round to your house out of nowhere and offering to pay you to write/act/tell jokes/sing songs for them is very low, and to be honest I’d be very wary of anybody who does.

4. Compromise is very much part of the deal

Films don’t document people working on Sundays when everyone else is out eating roast dinners or walking dogs; nor do they show people hunched over their laptops, typing away into the night because they have a deadline that they couldn’t hit during the day because they have another job. But this can be the reality of dream chasing. It certainly is for the writers among us. I would describe myself as ‘In a serious relationship’ with my desk, my laptop, and about 45 different Moleskine notebooks. It’s OK, they’re all fine with it.

There’s glamour and joy to be had, for sure – a byline, a pay cheque, your face on TV – but most of the time it’s just me, a blanket, my computer and all the empty packets from snacks I’ve inhaled. I’m happy with that, but I appreciate it wouldn’t be for everyone.

5. Patient friends and family are everything

There’s a bit in La La Land where Sebastian drives to Mia’s house and insists on taking her to an audition because he believes in her. These are the kinds of people we need in our lives. People who won’t get cross when we have to opt out of going to a party because we have a deadline, but who will instead make us a drink before they go – because not only do they understand our life goals, but they also take hydration seriously.

6. You have to learn when to rest

Why didn’t you go on holiday last year, Charlotte?

Oh because I was too busy chasing my dreams.

And what are your dreams exactly?

To write for a living so that I can travel and enjoy my free time on my terms.

Right…

Breaks matter. They matter to your health because life is tiring, they matter to your relationships because to have them you need to actually spend time with people, and they matter to your work because you can only create great things if you look after yourself. So you need to get good at figuring out when to work and when to rest. As I discovered early on, if you just wait until you fall over to realise you need to stop, you’re leaving it too late.

7. Comparing yourself to others is NOT helpful

I’ve written about this lots of times before (and most recently in this post), but it needs reiterating to remind myself and anybody else who spends too much time online. It is healthy to look at somebody who has done something you would also like to do and think “How can I learn from them?”, it is not healthy to think “I am a failure because this has happened to them and not to me.” Do you see the distinction? Good, now paint it on your bedroom wall or your phone screen. None of us has enough time to waste worrying about why we’re not somebody else. We’ve got much more important sh*t to do than that.

20 extremely useful writing tips from great writers

26/08/2016 by Charlotte 1 Comment

Notebooks Last night I went to an event run by Grazia called ‘Overcome your creative barriers’ – because don’t we all need help with that. A group of wonderful writers – Jessie Burton, Bryony Gordon, Bridget Minamore, Laura Jane Williams and Elizabeth Day – offered their advice on how to get around the many challenges we all face when just trying to get words on the page.

It was great and, as ever, I wanted to pass on some of the tips and very reassuring words of wisdom I brought home. Hope you find them useful!

1. Just write one true sentence. And then write another. And another.

2. Women are often afraid to take up space – be it in real life or online. Don’t be.

3. You need to find the right balance between self-criticism and self-awareness. You need to be honest about your work, but don’t hold yourself back.

4. Exam-style success does not transfer to creativity – it’s not possible to write something perfect. It doesn’t work like that.

5. If you give yourself to your work it doesn’t matter what anyone else says because you’ve done what you can do.

6. Remember: It took Beyoncé 15 years and six albums to produce the practically flawless Lemonade. It’s a process for everyone, so don’t feel bad about what you’re doing now, feel proud of it.

7. There is not always a direct correlation between social media, readers and success.

8. … but the online community can be an amazing source of work, ideas, audiences, pals…. etc. Some people wouldn’t have their careers without it.

9. Writing is a great way to resolve the unresolved – you often don’t know how you really feel about something until you write it down.

10. “I don’t really do it for pleasure, I do it because I have to” – I related to this so much.

11. “I’m happiest when I’m in the writing – it’s getting myself to the act of writing [which is the hard part]” – YEP.

12. You have to be very, very, very determined to do it. You have to find the time otherwise you will never do it. The secret to writing is writing.

13. If you have a day when you can’t write, at least read.

14. (When writing about yourself) Be fearlessly unapologetically you.

15. Give yourself your own deadlines.

16. Learn all the words to Don’t rain on my parade by Barbara Streisand – it’s not your mistake to make, it’s mine, and I’m going to have a great time trying.

17. The words are not going to come out like you think they’re going to come out. But that’s OK. That’s what editing is for. Give yourself permission for it to be rubbish. A first draft is supposed to suck.

18. (On finding writing difficult) If you were driving into a wall, you wouldn’t keep just driving at the wall, you’d back up. So back up, and see why it’s not working.

19. Play classical music to help you focus. Or listen to something EPIC like a film soundtrack to make you feel that what you’re doing is really important.

20. If you’re struggling to write, find something in the process that brings you joy – be it sentence structure or language or dialogue – find something that makes you feel happy.

Life advice: Stop trying to do everything at once

07/08/2016 by Charlotte Leave a Comment

Be happy This week I finally realised that it’s OK to admit that you’re not capable of doing absolutely everything at once.

This is not a radical discovery but, in a world where relentless multitasking is a way of life, acceptance of this fact does feel like one.

If you’re anything like me, the only way that you will come to accept that you’re not a failure because you can’t manage to be in 55 places, achieving 307 things at once, is if somebody else says it to you.

Sit with a friend or a family member and list all of the things you’re currently achieving, everything you’d still like to do, and then berate yourself for being lazy because you aren’t managing to do it all. Now take a look at their face. They will shake their head. They may even laugh at the absurdity of what you’re saying. And then they’ll look you in the eye and tell you to calm down. You’re doing plenty, they’ll say, have a bloody lie down.

You need to decide what your priorities are, and then to give yourself permission to do those things without feeling bad about it. It doesn’t mean you can’t do additional stuff too, just that the bulk of your time, energy, thought, money – whatever – goes in that direction and you don’t beat yourself up for it. You don’t waste brain space feeling inadequate.

My current number one and two are: freelance writing – doing the work I have, and finding more; and, as soon as we get our sh*t together, attempting to find somewhere new to live in London. I will be doing plenty of other stuff too – eating, sleeping, going to work, eating nectarines over the sink, setting aside time to make incomprehensible notes that might one day turn into a story, consuming passionfruit margaritas, talking to strangers who definitely didn’t ask to hear about my baby nephew… oh, and maintaining relationships with my husband/family/friends/Coronation Street – but these are the life goals that I need to be making most progress with right now.

One of the most useful things I’ve learnt since becoming an adult, working person, is that if you attempt to do too many things in one go, you’ll either end up getting nothing done, or you’ll do all of them badly. Focus is everybody’s best friend; I just wish she’d come round more often than her pals Distraction, Procrastination, and I Wonder What Everybody’s Up To On Facebook? We just have to be strict with ourselves. As I’ve written before, if I didn’t have my egg timer, I don’t know how I’d get anything done.

Even more powerful than not physically attempting to do it all, is giving yourself the mental freedom to stop the internal dialogue that tells you that you’re failing. That voice that says, well yes, maybe you are doing this piece of work, and meeting this deadline, and fitting in some quality time with your loved ones, but how can you enjoy yourself knowing that you haven’t also written a best-selling novel? How can you let yourself have a holiday when you could be auditioning Hollywood actors for the film adaptation of your memoir? OH YEAH YOU HAVEN’T WRITTEN ONE YET – UNPACK YOUR SUITCASE AND GET BACK TO YOUR DESK.

My opinion is this: if you’ve already got so much on your plate, why would you add self-criticism to your to-do list too? This is all about being realistic, and chucking in a couple of hours a day to berate yourself because you’re not Wonder Woman is the precise opposite of that.

So let’s be a little bit kinder to ourselves, shall we?

Great. Well, that’s my allotted hour of creativity done for the day, now onto the next thing. But not before I’ve had a little rest. A girl can only do so much, you know.

Emerald Street Literary Festival: 8 writing tips from great female writers

12/06/2016 by Charlotte Leave a Comment

IMG-20160530-WA0017 Another weekend, another lovely event about writing, and another blog post to tell you what I learnt.

This time it was the Emerald Street Literary Festival in London. After a hard week and yet another mighty migraine doing its best to keep me indoors, I was very close to just bailing all together and staying at home in the dark. I am so glad I didn’t. The very first session was a panel chat between writers Kate Mosse, Cynthia Bond, Elizabeth McKenzie and Lisa McInerney. And it was lovely.

They talked about the Baileys Women’s Prize for Fiction (which Lisa just won), about the importance of female spaces in literature, and about writing in general. It was exactly what I needed. I burst into tears at one point. Partly because I was exhausted, and partly because it was just so nice to hear such reassuring words from such successful authors.

So that I remember them forever, and others can benefit too, I’ve written down the range of tips they shared.

1.If a story has made its way into your mind and your heart, it’s your responsibility to tell that story – It certainly feels that way. The compulsion to write doesn’t come from wanting to write just anything, it’s about needing to write what you have to say. About not being able to feel comfortable until it’s out there. And now that I know that it’s my responsibility to do it, well, what choice do I have?!

2. If it helps, pretend nobody will ever read it – If you’re nervous about writing exactly what you have to say, pretend you’re just doing it for you. That’ll set you free to write what you want to write, and then, when it’s all down on the page, you can tackle the idea of somebody else actually reading it.

3. If you’re going to have work published, either get a thick skin or crumble – If you want people to read your work, you need to know that some people will love it and some people will not. So you either have to suck that up, or prepare to break. I have only ever received one round of nasty comments on this blog and I will remember it for the rest of my life – but if they thought it was going to stop me writing, they were wrong.

4. Stop feeling guilty for writing, it’s what you’re supposed to be doing – This is the one that made me cry. Lisa McInerney said that if she could go back in time, this is what she would say to herself. It really meant a lot to hear it. I feel guilty when I’m writing and not being sociable or fun or doing my washing. And I feel guilty when I’m not writing because I’m tired or need a break or am suddenly empty of ideas. I think I cried because I felt like I was being given permission to stop feeling this way. Absolutely nobody I care about has ever suggested that I should feel guilty – I’ve made it up all by myself – so this is where that ends.

5. If you want to actually finish writing something, you have to develop a talent for keeping your butt in a chair – So obvious and yet so difficult. I’m excellent at this when a new series of Orange is the New Black is released (FRIDAY!), or there’s a bag of chocolate covered raisins that need my attention, but when I have writing to do, all of a sudden I want to move around. I’m walking back and forth to the fridge, I’m tidying my underwear drawer, and I’m changing the bed – like anybody ever actually wants to do that. As I’ve written before, setting an egg timer is the only thing that can keep me at my desk for a useful period of time. But if you have any other tips I would love to hear them.

6. Imagine your future self walking by and saying KEEP GOING – I like this idea. The only person you really have to answer to is yourself anyway and I can’t imagine, whatever happens in the future, that I’ll ever wish I’d just never bothered trying. I shall now spend my procrastination time imagining my future self popping by for a spot of cheerleading time. Anything that drags me away from the fridge has got to be worth a try…

7. There are times when things will seem hopeless and you’ll think WHY AM I DOING THIS but you can make it work. Trust in that – When I think about it, I know that I have never not been able to find a way to write a sentence that I was struggling with (ironically, this particular sentence took me ages). It might have taken me hours, a few temper tantrums, and a hell of a lot of Cadbury’s but I’ve got there. And yet every time I come up against something tricky, I forget this and commence meltdown. Remember this, friends: everybody struggles. You just have to decide whether you want it enough to make it work, in which case you’ll just need to keep trying until it’s done. (I suggest having the odd scream into a pillow to help you along the way).

8. The quality of a book is about the stuff that isn’t in it, not the stuff that is – Well, thank goodness for that. I am in the very very very early stages of attempting to write some fiction and I already know that if it’s going to be any good at all, most of the stuff I have written so far is going to have to go in the bin. But it sounds like that’s how it starts for everyone so I feel a lot better about it now. And I’m also applying Tip 2 to my writing process at the moment anyway so seeing as nobody’s ever going to read it, I really don’t need to worry…

On getting older and making CHOICES

15/05/2016 by Charlotte Leave a Comment

When I sit down to write this blog, I rarely know what I’m going to talk about until I start typing.

I tend to perch myself on the edge of the sofa, thus adding an element of drama to proceedings, turn over all the things I’ve been thinking and talking about in my mind, and then start writing about one of them. (I realise you didn’t necessarily ask about my writing process, but I’ve been enjoying the My Writing Day series in the Guardian so much that I just couldn’t help myself).

And today, that process made me realise that the subject of most relevance to me right now is the variety of CHOICES we make as we get older. So here’s some thoughts on that:

When Wednesday rolls around and I have special, dedicated time for doing my freelance writing thing, the whole day is about choice. Who will I pitch to? Which idea is worth pursuing? Will I let myself be distracted by the pile of hand-washing that suddenly looks so appealing now that I’m supposed to be doing work? Or will I chase the dollar and get to 6pm before realising I haven’t breathed an ounce of fresh air (or as fresh as London can offer) since yesterday? So many choices and so little time. I spend hours wondering if I’m making the right decisions, as I’m sure we all do.

On a related note, I’ve come to realise how helpful it is when editors choose to spend a few seconds sending a response to a pitch to let you know that it’s not quite right. Nobody likes to be rejected but it’s still so much more helpful than silence. I can tick them off on my list, move on, and try to do better next time. I know that people are busy – and that lots of editors receive so many emails each day that responding is just not feasible – but when you spend your day seemingly sending emails into the abyss, it’s good to feel acknowledged, and hopefully one step closer to getting it right.

Our time is precious and choosing who we spend it with is a serious decision. Sometimes we choose to fight for more time with a person, and sometimes we decide to step away because, for whatever reason, the relationship just isn’t giving us what we need. My new rule is: if it feels like someone is stealing your time rather than giving you the gift of theirs, it’s time to make a change.

This week I chose to take Facebook off my phone. It was making me feel anxious and stressed and constantly in demand and I didn’t like it. Even though the little red notifications were rarely aimed at me personally, I felt that if I didn’t click right now to see what was going on, I’d be missing out or being disorganised in some way. I haven’t ‘left’ Facebook – chill out – I’ve just left it on my laptop for looking at when I want to, rather than carrying it around in my hand all the time. And I feel a lot better for it.

I like writing on here about my life, the lessons I’ve learnt, the things I find interesting, and I like sharing tips and advice that I can only hope someone will find useful. Whether you write for a living or for fun, you have to make a choice about what you will and won’t share. Whenever I come to this blog, I think through the unwritten policies that decide what I write about. For example, I want you to feel like you know me but not so well that I may as well have hung my laundry around your lounge. I want you to know that I’m human without making myself too vulnerable. I want to talk about my marriage without sharing so much that I somehow bring it to an end. It’s nice to have a place where I make the rules – and where I can choose to break them any time I like.

For the last week or so I’ve been getting up just a little bit earlier than usual to start writing some fiction. I don’t really know how to do that (but does anyone before they try?) so I’ve just been sitting down with a pen and my idea and seeing where it takes me. I do about 20 minutes a day whilst still wearing my pyjamas and with my husband sound asleep upstairs and each session gets me about two or three pages of words. Not words I’d like anyone to read right now, mind – my goodness no – but it’s a start. I realised that if I wanted to try, I needed to choose to find more hours in the day. It turns out they are there if you’re willing to respond to a slightly earlier alarm.

It’s very much acknowledged now that we’re a bit older that we have to build time into our lives to do nothing. To choose to have days when we class ourselves as being busy, but what we mean is that we’ll be busy doing nothing. Looking after ourselves. Managing our mental health. Eating our way through our second bag of Wispa Bites. Whatever. This time is ours. Please don’t come round.

We’re about to go on holiday and I’m choosing – as much as possible – to have an internet free time. I want to look at Florence, not my phone. I want to scroll through lists of gelato flavours, not pictures of other people’s lattes. And I want to talk to my husband face-to-face, rather than typing away about idontevenknowwhat on a device that I’m becoming more and more sure is trying to kill me. I choose to have some time off, and I can’t bloody wait.