I’ve been pretty quiet on the writing front this year,
mostly from a lack of inspiration. My mum had the theory a while back that I’d
become too content. To be honest, this has been a pretty great year. I got a
new job, which has resulted in a lot less staying up at night stressing about
things. I have a lovely gentleman friend, who shares my passion for seeking out
delicious burger joints and lets me scratch his beard. And I got to travel
again, making my way around the UK and Ireland with a quick jump over to Paris
so I could cross Euro Disney off my bucket list.
So was my mum right? Am I one of those tortured people who
can only make art when I’m feeling all the feelings? ‘Tortured artist’ is too
cool an image for me. And ‘No longer an artist because I’m feeling pretty great
about things’ is not a cool image at all. Something needed to be done. I had to
prove this theory wrong. But how? I needed to find inspiration deep within
myself. And deep within myself, there was a passion that can only be understood
by those who share it: I really freakin love Doctor Who.
And that UK trip I took this year? I met up with my aunty
over there, and we booked in a few days in Cardiff just so we could go to the
Doctor Who Experience, a magical walk through experience and museum of props
and such that I went to a few years ago in London before it moved. Having
booked the trip at the start of the year, we were unaware that it was actually
closing five days before we got there for ‘regeneration.’ Also, on account of
the fact we arrived in Cardiff the same day as all the world leaders arrived
for the NATO summit, most of the city was closed and there was nothing we could
do except take a photo of me in front of the closed building, on my knees, with
my arms in the air, cursing the sci-fi gods (I have chosen not to post the photo
as it is still an open wound oozing with disappointment and nerdy, nerdy
heartbreak).
‘Hey, Lauren, why not give writing sci-fi a crack?’ my brain
said late one evening when I was tired and delirious enough to think this was a
good idea. ‘You’ve got a notebook and pencil, you’re halfway there!’
Now I present to you, ‘Lauren’s list of things you need to
write
Sci-Fi’:
A notebook
A pencil
A mysterious hero
A human to ask aaaall the questions
A spaceship
A popular TV program to steal this formula from
So yeah. That’s what I’m playing around with at the moment.
And even if it’s badly written balls, I’m just happy that I’m trying, which is
another sign that I’M TOO EFFING CONTENT.
Things that are working well:
The worlds, and the people and things in them, run by MY
rules. Because I made them. I am their creator. I AM THEIR GOD.
Things that are not working well:
Naming things. Everyone is cool with Jerry the alien, yes?
And describing things. I’m not convinced that ‘Jerry the alien looked like an
alien’ is going to cut it, or ‘The spaceship smelled like a spaceship, and had
a cold chill like… a spaceship.’
Finally, because I’m feeling generous and can see the need
to face my emotional demons, here’s that photo of me at the Doctor Who
Experience.
