I wrote my first script for a play when I was 10 years old.  I have no idea what it was about but I can remember the rehearsals with the members of my primary school class.  After that I wrote sketches for the drama team I was part of, and I can remember quite a few of those.  I continued to do this until around my third year as an undergraduate.   I realise now that I stopped doing quite a few creative things at that point.  I stopped sewing clothes, knitting, playing the clarinet, and writing.  I suppose I had to focus on my science degree and getting qualifications so that I could find a job.  Or maybe I just changed the focus of my creative energy, as it was at that time I started to learn to program.  I did continue to compose music until my mid-twenties but at some point I stopped doing that as well.

In the past year my desire to be creative has led me to knit, sew, write, sing, and play.   The odd thing has been the reactions of other people.  When I told one friend that I liked to knit in the evenings they started to talk about how I could maybe sell the things I make.  When I said I wanted to write I was asked if I wanted to get a book published.  When I sing I’m asked if I want to get a job singing somewhere, or heaven forfend, if I want to audition for something like the X-factor. And last week when I was altering clothes I was asked if I was considering becoming a clothes designer!

Is there only value if there is money involved?  Why can’t I write for the sheer pleasure of seeing words form on the page.  Or knit so I can admire the material and the patterns I can make?

I found writing strangely addictive.  There were parts of the story that unfolded as quickly as I could type.  I also started to dream about the characters. I hadn’t expected writing to feel so like reading.  (I’m not sure if that sentence makes a lot of sense but whilst I was writing I stopped reading fiction, as if the writing I was doing removed my need to do this.)

The story isn’t finished yet but I’m going to wait until the New Year and then go back to it.

It also seems to be forcing me to write as if the story is unfolding in real time.  Now I know why so many people put headings in their novels like “one month later”.  Whatever happens it’s certainly going to be an interesting learning experience.

Not having much luck with just looking at the screen I decided to give it a try.  I started with “It was a beautiful day” and then went on to rant about how it should have been dark and stormy to match my feelings.  And somehow I have ended up with 1,975 words, two main characters, and a whole new world.  I didn’t want to write fantasy but it seems to be writing itself.  Since this appears to be an exercise in producing 50,000 words of fiction I’m not going to fight the fantasy thing.  I’m having enough trouble writing without throwing obstacles like “I’d rather write horror” in my way.

The afternoon started off with an adventure.  We were supposed to be meeting at Tokyo Hacker Space but either we didn’t manage to find it or we did find it and it wasn’t open.  We eventually gave up and went and found a coffee shop.

I have no idea how to write a novel and it was interesting listening to the others talk about their ideas.  I was also amused by their combined hatred of Twilight.  I don’t really understand why people feel the need to mock popular fiction.  When I suggested that the story was interesting I was told that people shouldn’t sacrifice their integrity to write popular fiction.  Ah, to be young and idealistic.  To think that success is a sure sign that you aren’t enough of a tortured genius for your work to be any good.

I’m not convinced that I’ll be able to write anything that’s close to any definition of good.  But it will amuse me trying.

He gives three maxims to improve writing:

1. Never use a long word if a short word will do.
2. If you want to make a statement with a great many qualifications, put some of the qualifications in separate sentences.
3. Do not let the beginning of your sentence lead the reader to an expectation which is contradicted by the end.

My favourite piece of advice is directed at professors but would be useful to anyone who writes in a field filled with jargon:

I am allowed to use plain English because everybody knows that I could use mathematical logic if I chose. … I suggest to young professors that their first work should be written in a jargon only to be understood by the erudite few. With that behind them, they can ever after say what they have to say in a language “understanded of the people”.