Author: S. K.

Process, product, and calling myself a “writer”.

Hi all! On social media, I see a lot of writers finding discomfort in calling themselves a writer. I often feel that way, too. Recently reading Modern Nature by the writer, artist and film producer Derek Jarman, I’ve reevaluated that discomfort a bit, and identified some causes. Maybe it’s useful to share?

Art and capitalism

Modern Nature is Derek Jarman’s journal. It spans two years towards the end of his life after he started his garden at Dungeness, Kent. A mixed account of flower-lore, film-making, and his first-hand experience of the 1980’s AID’s crisis that would kill him four years later, the book is beautiful and surprisingly uplifting.

It’s helped me reconnect with my creativity in the aftermath of change and let me think of myself as a creator. I’ve not wanted to ‘over-identify’ with the things I do by confusing them with who I am, but after reading Jarman I understand more clearly the origins of my discomfort in calling myself a writer.

Process or product?

Jarman is unapologetic about creating. The thought of being apologetic doesn’t seem to occur to him in Modern Nature. I wondered where he got that courage from. Clues came up in the space he seems to see between his process of creating and the created ‘products’ of his films. Through this distinction, I’ve been seeing my own process of creating art through the capitalist lens.

Is writing a novel ‘productive’? Is this really the best way I could be spending my time? Can I call myself a writer, if I’m not being paid to do it? Does it even count as work, if it doesn’t make money? What does ‘work’ even mean? Is it fanciful – arrogant, even! – to call myself such a thing?

Well, no. When I step out of that automatic thinking, I realise it doesn’t chime with me at all. The disconnection that can occur between capitalism and purpose is even a theme in Albion Awakes – and still sometimes I forget it! Writing is just something I do. If someone wants to sell my book without changing its core story, then great! I’ll work hard to make it sell-able – but I’m not writing to sell a product; that’s not my purpose. My purpose is the process.

So I’m going to try hard and hesitate less, when saying I’m a writer. Creating can go back to being an activity, something that makes my heart sing, and connects me to others in this world. That’s value enough, eh?

Ta, Derek!

2 May 2023
How I finished writing a novel (with undiagnosed ADHD).
Every writer seems to have advice for us wannabe authors on how to finish writing a novel. And no wonder we seek it! Nowadays, if you want to be published the traditional way, submitting to agents and publishers requires a completed and polished manuscript before even sending a ‘hello’.

That’s a lot of work. While we have to earn enough money to live, address our other responsibilities, and remember how to rest, reaching a final draft can be pretty tough. It took me five years to finish my manuscript – and that’s whilst having a heck of a lot of privilege. But being someone with undiagnosed inattentive ADHD, following the advice I saw all over the internet on how to finish it didn’t work.

Here’s what did.

How the heck to be productive

Write like a machine? Get up at 5.00 am every morning to write for two hours before the commute? Aim for 200 words minimum every day? Mate, that just ain’t how my brain works. My version of being productive required these solid basics:
- enough sleep (or coffee)
- a good diet (and coffee)
- alone time
- …time
- a notepad
- WiFi
- A library/bookshop/cafe/other place of inspiration where you can physically write
- deadlines designed for your brain
- rewilding my creativity
- enough money to afford all of the above
For me the penultimate bullet point was the real learning curve. By ‘creativity’, I don’t mean that common, Romantic idea of ‘being a writer’ (spending long nights at a typewriter while necking a bottle of red and lamenting in worldly disillusionment), I mean finding the love for what you’re writing. Over and over (and over) again. The practice of finishing something so dang long and complex demands a healthy perseverance (not always the same thing as hyperfocus!)

One symptom of ADHD is a depleted supply of dopamine which affects mood, focus and impulsivity. Regular and repetitive administrative or organisational tasks can feel more challenging. Sometimes, when I had writer’s block or couldn’t solve a plot hole, my writing slid into the realm of a chore. To get myself back into a space of creative excitement I had to rewild my creativity.

Rewilding my creativity

(Affordable) ways I reconnected to my story when dopamine was nowhere to be seen included:
- Getting out of town. And I don’t mean paying for one of those crazy expensive writing retreats in the Cotswolds. Affordable Youth Hostel Association (YHA) hostels offered a great reprieve when I had some Annual Leave to use up. Rocking up to a rickety old building in the middle of nowhere, where I could hear birds and smell air and take walks and live without WiFi before nabbing the library room, did wonders for my writing. Booking outside of school holidays for even just a couple of days was cheap and productive.
- Taking walks/getting outside. This one’s free if you have access to outdoor spaces. Walking helped me rewild my imagination by reconnecting me with my body and the world. Getting out of my head and not forcing it made all the difference. My characters, stories and ideas grew when I was half-looking away.
- Turning my phone off (but keeping reminders on). Connecting to myself and my story instead of doomscrolling helped me dive into my novel’s world, while the reminders and notifications dug me out of hyperfocusing.
- Creating deadlines. Creating deadlines isn’t exactly ‘wild’, but it certainly helps people with ADHD to focus. Being accountable to others – a writing group, for example – was useful for times I struggled to be accountable to myself.
Sustaining practice

These techniques really helped me sustain my practice. Sure, my writing progress was slow (five years!) but I learned the craft during that time; managed to stay healthy; saw my friends once in a while, and earned enough money to live. I call that a win.

Do you work on long-term creative projects with ADHD? What techniques have you found useful? Hit me up in the comments if you have any.
12 December 2022
Hello, world!

… and welcome to my new website and blog! What a banger. It’s a pleasure to have you here *tips cap*.

After five years, my first novel Albion Awakes is finally ready to be shared with the world. Apparently, it takes writing a book to learn how to write a book. Who knew? I’m excited to start submitting in the New Year and getting stuck into book two.

But first – as Sheffield is cloaked with snow, and the days stay dark under a low, clouded sky – Midwinter approaches. It’s time to get under the covers and get acquainted with my bulky to-be-read pile. First on the list: Lakelore by Anne-Marie McLemore, an intersectional queer YA novel with eco vibes and neurodivergence rep. What more could you ask for?

Wishing you a gentle winter with a dollop of warmth at the end of this incredibly strange, difficult year. Over and out, friends x

1 December 2022