#210: Hello
I haven’t been sharing lately.
I haven’t been posting much on social media. It feels like there is too much noise.
I have the desire to hunker down, get in the shed, make stuff, build.
I don’t have much of a desire to write and share with the world my every move.
There is work in front of me that feels easy. That feels like flow and that’s where I’m going.
I’m in the process of buying a house. That’s a priority over anything. That’s work, that’s where my energy wants to go.
I’m rebuilding my community and my whole life in a new area.
I’m rebuilding my work, moving away from just one thing to working on multiple missions.
That’s quite a lot isn’t it? No wonder I haven’t felt like I have much time to share.
I have been writing every day. I’ve been writing a first draft of - working title - Jack’s Journal//Jack the Lad.
Bridget Jones’s Diary for Men.
Jack writes in his journal every Sunday for a year because he wants to “get rich, get ripped and get a gf” He diarises his life and goes on an unexpected inner journey dealing with anxiety, grief and changing relationships.
I want to give a voice to men’s emotions and shine a light on the feelings under the surface of many young men that are so often hidden away. I want to shine a light on “lad culture” the good and the bad.
That’s really why I’ve not been writing in this newsletter every week (amongst the other things listed) but that’s mainly why. I’m putting a lot of energy into it.
I can feel it. I’ve never had this before with writing. There is a world in my head. There is Jack, his flat in North London, his house mate, his friends, his family, his work colleagues. There is his whole life, in my head and I have to get it out.
And now, everywhere I turn I see why I need to keep writing this first draft. I see young men with no role models. I see role models for men that I find abhorrent. I see outdated versions of what a man should look like. I think Jack can be like the modern day young man, give him a voice, give him a look, make him visible, make him real, make him become a good man. A good man.
It feels nervous to say out loud, but 25k words into a first draft and I feel like I'm ready to say that I'm writing it. Who knows what will happen with the first draft, it might go in the bin. I hope not, saying semi-publicly that I am writing it for real feels like the next step for me.
And I feel on my edge, on the edge of what I'm capable of. Can I really write a fiction book? Can I really create a story from scratch? I don't know but I'm going to try.
It feels good to be on my edge, I've missed it :)
Buying a house also takes a very long time.
How refreshing to write this newsletter without trying to make any grandiose points about social issues. What a relief.
Cheers,
James x
Writing
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Who am I?
Writer, founder, husband, always tanned.
Wannabe poet, imposter, taboo buster.
Thinker, philosopher, not a drinker
Joker, chancer, bad dancer.
shoulder chipped Stokie
champagne hippie
Asks questions,
the big ones
best ones.
Always
asking
Who
am
I?