Hi friends,
Down to business first: scroll if you’re here to reserve a spot for January 2025’s run of Memoir in a Month.
Before that, and rather than a blow-by-blow account of my time at Moniack Mhor, I thought I’d share a diary entry, a photo essay and a voice note which together capture something of the experience of being on a writing retreat,. The tussle between ‘being’ and ‘doing’. Input and output. How it feels to share time and space with other writers on their own journeys. Perhaps it speaks to the later parts of this post? Says something that might resonate with you if you’re considering investing in yourself and your own writing?
This voicenote was recorded about 7 hours after the diary entry… I wonder if you can tell how the hours in between went?
Thursday 7th December, 2023
Back at the dining table this morning full of questions. Concern, too, for where this story is going. But also? I’m tired. Slept later than I’d like, though concede it was a good sleep. Much-needed after two fitful nights.
The cold has broken, finally. On those first few mornings, my face out of the covers, dark starts reminded me of those specific winter mornings at Auchengate. Frozen condensation on the inside of my window. A brittle cold.
Bodies seize up in the cold. Protection?
Not like at home in the shared bed where I’m afforded the luxury of stretching out, hands above my head, feet and legs bare. My toes hook over the bottom seam of the mattress, rubbing it for comfort. Seeking the cold spot.
If I were looser in body, might the words be, too?
A week of extremes. Too cold by night; too hot by day. The fire blazes in the living room stove. Enthusiastic stokers open the vents and flames dance, fevered, behind the glass. The oil heater in the far corner under Janice Galloway’s gifted print of Alison Watt’s Sabine was on full bung last night when tasked to set the table for dinner. I switched it off at the wall and only now am wondering who had the job of lighting the fire in this now-comfortable room? Is it meant to stay on overnight for them before the fire takes?
Reeking of the day, I’ve been in need of a shower before bed each night. Didn’t pack for being over-warm. Sniffed the armpits on the two t-shirts I brought. Neither wearable this morning. Can I do a hand wash?
Nor did I prepare for the degree of anxiety, or rather, impatience I’ve experienced in the face of this novel. I’ve written a few thousand words since I arrived, limping into a scene that should, by rights, be all punch and drama. I can feel it. Am excited by it. But these words, the lengthy pre-amble, this is coming first. Maybe I just need a run-up? Maybe, like the last time, the run-up will eventually be scrapped after serving its purpose?
Or maybe these words are good. Hint at the impatience of the central character, who is, too, desperate for the action but forced to endure a wait not of her own making?
The signs were promising at the start of the week. And I’m trying to hold on to them. Remember that the oracle cards I pulled on the first night encouraged me to accept circumstance with no judgement (failing on this!) To open and activate the spaces within my heart that need attention. What needs my attention now? I’m still asking, at least.
And then there was the Alison Watt, hanging above me the first night at dinner. Only noticed it when I went to leave the table. And on Tuesday morning, the mug found in the dresser. The only one with no handle. Blue-turquoise pottery piece, glazed with blue and umber smudges like the best late afternoon winter sky. A name scratched in its glazed curves: MOYA. Moya, the character in my novel who introduces the protagonist to that exact painting. I searched the other cups for names. All shop-bought.
Signs, all. There if you’re open to seeing them. A continuation of the private, ongoing conversation I’m conducting with the universe, someone told me.
I’m into that.
And now, courses!
Memoir in a Month January 2025
Join me and a small group of writers in a compassionate, supportive online space to explore the craft of memoir over five weeks. Through readings and exercises, you will develop your premise, find your unique voice and explore different aspects of the life writer's craft from structure and form through to characterisation and the ethics of life writing. You will also work on the nuts and bolts of writing, including how to choose and use a variety of narrative framing devices and how to write dialogue. Each writer will be invited to book one 30-minute tutorial with me during weeks one to three to discuss their WIP, and on week four we'll be joined by our guest reader who will share some of their own work and stoke our collective creative fire.
On our final session, we'll join together in a sharing ceilidh to celebrate the month's work and our time together.
When? 7-9pm GMT on five consecutive Wednesdays:
January 15th, 22nd, 29th
February 5th, 12th.
Where? Zoom and Slack.
Each two hour session will give you the tools you need to work independently across the week, whether your goal is to begin writing a memoir, make progress on a WIP or polish up an existing first draft. I’m also bringing my knowledge of writing for publication, querying agents, submitting work to competitions, working on book proposals and submitting to editor,s and will be open to questions throughout the month in our dedicated Classroom.
I am delighted to be able to offer this course here on
which is the perfect online home. It’s vital that each writer gets the focus and support they need, so offer a maximum of eight places. You can reserve your place (or reserve a spot for a loved one) by completing this Google Form.What’s the investment?
When I confirm your spot, you will be invited to upgrade to the Founding Member tier, which costs £175 and includes a year’s access to all the Membership benefits as well (normally £50 for an annual subscription). If you already have an active annual subscription, your upgrade cost will adjust to reflect your investment.
Any questions? Please let’s chat in the comments, friends!
Next up…
Writing for Better Mental and Physical Health: Oct/Nov 2024
I cannot tell you how excited I am to be offering this course to my Membership community again in October 2024. Whether you’re starting, re-igniting or developing a journalling practice, allow me to hold space for gentle but deep self-enquiry to improve our mental and physical health with no sharing required. If there’s ever been a time to get curious about ourselves and our relationship to the world we live in, it’s now. Came along last time and fancy it again? You’d be most welcome.
Natalie Goldberg says on writing:
“Our details are important. Otherwise, if they are not, we can drop a bomb and it doesn't matter. . . Recording the details of our lives is a stance against bombs with their mass ability to kill, against too much speed and efficiency.”
Why trust me? Read more on the Pennebaker Method and my facilitation, teaching and life writing experience here.
What does it feel like to journal for mental and physical health? Read this collaborative post shared as part of
‘s 12 Days of Advent Celebration.What did previous attendees get out of it? Read on…
“The session tonight was so good, and you're such an excellent workshop leader - you make the space feel very safe and welcoming. Thank you again, looking forward to next week.”
“Writing for Mental Health was the highlight of my week! It was so nice and necessary to carve out that time with yourself to check in. Lindsay guided us to think about our feelings in the present moment but also deeper dives, the most memorable for me being on the topic of shame. Most importantly, it was a lovely, safe atmosphere to gather with a new community (many writers themselves), to share and empathise. It was a really special workshop and I'm grateful to have been part of it.”
“I so loved these workshops, and genuinely got stuff down. Thank you, Lindsay.”
“You created a very chilled and cosy, comfortable atmosphere for a workshop which is VERY hard to do online.”
When?
Tuesdays, 8-9pm BST/GMT (use Dateful to find your local time if you’re not in the UK)
October 22nd
October 29th
November 5th
November 12th
How do I enrol?
Upgrade to a monthly or an annual subscription before session 1 and you’ll be able to access the zoom link in Chat. Attend the first session and you’ll be automatically enrolled onto the course, receiving a recording and all course materials by email after each session. Or drop me a DM to let me know you’ll be doing it in your own time and I’ll send you everything you need week by week.
Building this community is one of the pleasures of my life, and I cannot wait to see more of you all.
Lindsay x
Can I reserve a spot for the memoir in a month but pay in the next couple weeks?
I'm in for the journaling writing thingy! Just subscribed x