Writing Inside Out

I am sorry that I have not published anything here for so long. I have known I should. In April I experienced a life-changing event and have just not been able to find public words. I have written. Writing has remained my lifeline, but, until the last few days, I have not found the energy to write beyond myself. I think that kind of ebb and flow of writing and what we choose to write -or not - may be familiar to most of us. I hope that you have been able to find time to write for yourself. Perhaps you have used and enjoyed the regular writing prompts posted on the site . Have you had time to read Katie Kibbler’s wonderful account of her encounters and commitment to NWP teacher writing groups? If you haven’t already, read what she has to say.  Feel inspired by her!

More than ever, our groups of teacher writers, and those who are not yet part of a group, need the time and space to write, and we need each other. Writing together brings a kind of affirmation, inspiration and comfort that infuses our lives and our teaching. It would be good to hear news of what you have been writing, how you have been meeting. Most of our established groups are writing together by Zoom. Unexpectedly, the Zoom meeting for writers is remarkably different from the many other on-line meetings that you may have to deal with. Essentially, the on-line meeting for writing teachers has become, what one teacher described as ‘a sacred space’. It works so powerfully for our well-being and is, at the same time, ‘the best kind of CPD’. 

During the spring and summer, when teachers were teaching remotely to blank screens, dipping in and out of school, caring for the children of key workers, trying to home school our own children, we, in Norwich, found that our meetings were a space that was ours. I was able, home alone, to run a meeting every week, rather than monthly. And that has proved to be wonderful. People come and go according to commitments and timetables, but we are always there on a Thursday. Sometimes children join us -and that is a pleasure and a privilege. And I have found that we are learning even more about ourselves as writers and teachers of writing.

My usual approach to running a writing group is to combine adult focused activities alongside approaches and ideas that can be transferred to the classroom. I have always included in our meetings some focus on pedagogy or process. But during lockdown, I began choosing ideas and prompts that were designed with the group and our situation in mind. I felt that we just needed the space to write -and to hear other people’s writing, about our days, about what we have lost, and what we have found, pleasures and sadnesses. And there is always laughter. At some point I worried about the teaching part of this venture. Had we lost that element of our meetings? And that is when someone said that this was the best kind of CPD. The weekly commitment has allowed people to stay in the writing moment, and not feel they have to pick it up again after a month or more. A weekly commitment is not necessary, though people reported how they had more frequently gone back to their writing, revised it, developed it. Most importantly, they said that what they were learning for themselves, through writing themselves, was richer and more deeply embedded in their teaching than in other forms of professional development. It is what I have always known at some level. It is hard to capture. It encourages me to encourage you to write with others!

We learn to write from the inside out…

Keep On Writing

I am learning, all over again, about the generosity and power of writing, alone and with others. I have been learning about writing all my life. I know it well and I am grateful. Writing has become an old friend, one who continues to surprise me; one who reminds me, gently, of what we have learned together. Writing was there when I fell in love and stood by me in dark times. Writing has helped me keep a record of my days, required me to focus, shown me how I can be a teacher, shown me what I think and helped me to discover more. Writing keeps me in touch. Writing allows me to create new possibilities. Writing steadies me. And when I write alongside others, I am enriched by their writing, by hearing our words on the air, learning new ways, new perspectives, acknowledging our shared humanity and our unique selves.  

Most of us, just now, have more time than usual to write. The need for writing, always there even at the best of times, is accentuated, suddenly acute. I have been moved to see how many of those I know have turned to writing as one way of engaging with this personal and worldwide crisis. 

A month or so ago I began to post ten-minute writing prompts on my Facebook page. I was encouraged to do so by a friend who is not a teacher and would not, I think, describe herself as a writer. She was finding it useful, she said, to write. I have continued to post these prompts. They are on this website also. And sometimes I wonder what on earth I think I am doing. Who am I kidding? More junk.

But I notice quiet responses. A like. A simple comment. A note of thanks: ‘I am loving this 10 minutes a day of writing. It's 10 minutes’ sanity.’ Another friend sends me a beautiful piece of writing about necklaces. I love it. I think there is a poem within it. She sends me the poem, the first draft and the second. We are connected as we are usually connected when we write together. Perhaps even closer. 

And then something else happens. People are beginning to write beneath the prompts. It began with a prompt to write about a recipe –and a photograph of some of my cookery books on the shelf. Crank’s Recipe Book, amongst the line-up, provoked a memory of vegetable crumble, cheese jacks (baked that very day), homity pie. On Easter Sunday, an invitation to write about eggs brought photographs of lovely Sussex Light Chickens and a small tousled headed boy with his stash of chocolate. On Bank Holiday, memories came of other Easter Mondays. And one, glorious, exuberant, personal account of the writer’s  annual family celebration: painted eggs, the woods, children showered in pink blossom, the wild throwing and batting of eggs ‘to smithereens’, then ‘All children must then have their turn with the bats until our party breaks up- the smallest children and their mothers or fathers return home while the rest of us walk on to catch up with important less frivolous news of each other. Next year it will be very special indeed ...’ The writer said she felt better for having let it all out. And we, the readers, were enriched and amused and strengthened by her words. 

This is why we meet to write together. This is why we learn to teach children about writing. Go well and go safely, dear fellow writing teachers. Keep writing. Ten minutes a day. Write with a friend. Tell yourself. Tell each other.

Writing Groups...Remotely

“Thanks for joining this morning. [It] was really nice to see everyone who made it, and so lovely to do some writing and laugh and share ideas.”

“Thank you so much for joining in with today’s writing session in your various ways. It was wonderful to write in your company.”

Group leaders, David Marshal and Alison Jermak, sign off at the end of their respective writing group meetings. At a distance. It is lovely to write and laugh and share ideas. It is wonderful to write in the company of others.

I feel sure that many of you will have sought out a time during the day when you are able to write. We are discovering, in new ways, the power that writing can have in our lives; the way that writing works within us and takes us beyond ourselves. We are also discovering the great need we have to be in touch. In touch. We may not be near, or even touch, especially if we live alone. But we may be in touch. And the great pleasure of written and voiced communication is brought into sharp focus when closeness is denied. Alison and David are among a growing number of NWP group leaders who are finding ways to create writing workshops, writing meetings that allow us to hear our words, and the words of others, on the air.

These two leaders have been able to use Zoom to create their groups. Simon Wrigley, I know, ran his group last Saturday through e-mail. Alison accommodated both.  I envy those who are able to hear poems and prose read aloud and to share the thoughtfulness and the laughter. I have loved the group contact that is generated and the conversations that have arisen. Several weeks ago, a long-standing writing group to which I belong was cancelled for non-pandemic reasons. On the verge of lockdown, I think we felt the loss keenly. Rather tentatively, I began a virtual writing weekend, imagining the arrivals, the crunch of wheels on gravel, Radio 3 in the lit kitchen, our host asking whether we would like tea, or are we ready for a beer? I set writing prompts at appropriate times. During the weekend we quietly exchanged e-mailed conversations. We exchanged writing. Friends who would not have been able to be there in person were able to join us. Those of you who belong to writing groups know just how nourishing and inspiring they are. They are deeply human.

What next?

You could initiate a group, a trio, a pair of you, who would write together. Start with some shared prompts and see where this takes you. Alison and David kept to the pattern of regular groups: words, a short writing activity, a longer more considered piece of writing. If you are starting a new group, you may like to begin with just one short starter and then time for a longer piece of writing. You can decide. There are daily short prompts on this website. There are many more ideas in the Exercises section and in the archived, original website which you can access on the home page. Alison and David drew upon some of the brilliant resources that are available to us on line. David used a session from the Arvon 5 day short story challenge.

Alison chose a poem from Anthony Wilson’s wonderful website. If you are not already signed up for that, I recommend it.