Walking Backwards

 

Walking Backwards

I have been doing this for a couple of weeks now, metaphorically that is, I suspect that if I had physically been doing this for any period of time I would not be in a fit state to write this!

My last blog reflected on moving on, working out what exactly is it that I want to do?

Midsummer Procession 2015.

'I will walk backwards away from what I thought I was going towards, to gain an overview of it and its environs. I will retreat slowly and carefully and see what aspects of the blog writing that I miss, and hopefully this will remind me of why I have kept writing every week for the last year.'

Well, thankfully it hasn't taken long to recognise what I miss and also what it is that I enjoy discovering whilst out walking, that I want to share with others.

Talking to people who have read the blog over the last year and hearing their impressions of it have greatly helped too.

Shadow company on the path.

I have been told that it is easy to 'dip into', another said it was 'an escape', a third told me how much she appreciated reading about my walking experiences when she herself was unable to walk any distance due to poor health, she said it was like she was accompanying me anyway! These comments were very much appreciated as I gather my thoughts on why, how and what type of book I shall be writing.

Finding Form

Despite any disappointment I may have had that the publisher didn't instantly give me a huge cheque for my thoughts when I met up with him the previous week, I have still kept up with any walking, research and networking opportunities! I went to a fascinating poetry reading at the University of Kent with a friend a couple of weeks ago. Tom Chivers was reading from his new (beautiful) book 'Dark Islands', published by Test Centre, 2015. I loved the way his writing was highly observant, imaginative and often playful.

Here are a couple of stanzas from my favorite poem in the book, titled 'The Islanders'.

'The islanders were digital natives,

bronzed and nubile, their ankles garlanded

with flash drives fashioned from conch shells.

At dusk they danced a ritual waltz,

the men intoning Windows log-off

as the sun passed beyond the horizon.'

Tom's work, especially this one, reminded me of some writing by Will Self, in his Penguin mini-book 'Scale' about the future tribes who will inhabit service stations on the defunct motorways. I feel that imagination like this is very accessible and it excites me as it is a subtle and clever twist on our known reality. Both Tom's and my own work is inspired by similar interests although the processes and outcomes are different, so I hope to keep in touch with him.

Reflections.

I will continue to find my form in the next couple of weeks and then I will be off, knowing I am moving in the right direction. I may not be following an existing path but making my own. Perhaps that is what has been the hesitancy in progressing with this book any sooner.