Christmas, Writing, and this year

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It’s been so long since I wrote anything. It’s been really difficult to get into the space where I connect with inspiration to write and express and leave my heart on paper.

Writing is mostly cathartic but also an extension of who I am. This year has tried me in the deepest way and pushed me to be so much more than I ever thought I could be.

I am so grateful.

So many people had it way harder than I did. I suppose if finding inspiration to do this thing that I desire so much is my only difficulty then I am so fortunate. So yeah… I am grateful.

Gratitude is such a funny thing. It is defined both by what we say and what we hide… this post hides a lot too… even so, at its simplest, it conveys that there was much that was lost by so many. Inspiration, for me, and perhaps time… time that mostly shifted in a blur… and now it is Christmas.

I suppose I will be bleeding on this here keyboard because I am back. And with so much story.

Emotional hangovers – part deux

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One of the benefits of working from home during these COVID times is that my experience of other humans is highly curated – read: I don’t get out much… and I had forgotten about how anxious I get in social situations ordinarily.

Soooooo… It’s not a debilitating anxiety – just a nagging sense of unease coupled with a feeling like I am talking too much… or saying too much or laughing too loudly… or sharing too much or … and the racing thoughts keep going. I had also forgotten the beginnings of the emotional hangover and how it can just stop me in my tracks. These are feelings I hadn’t felt in a long while…

I suppose one of the perks of working from home and social distancing, for me, has been the limited range of anxiety… limited anxiety has meant more energy… more energy has meant that I accomplish more… accomplishing more has meant that I feel so damn good about myself… feeling so damn good about me has literally kept me happy … and made me less self-conscious.

But today I went out of the house and had a nice early dinner. It was nice to be out and be in a social space. But now I have come back to my space feeling mildly assaulted by the racing thoughts and the feelings of falling short – they seem irrational but already fighting myself of this has exhausted me… I suppose after being alone for so long, it’s not unusual that I came back feeling assaulted by the vulnerability of being close to another human and sharing my thoughts.

It was fine in the moment. I was okay in the moment… it’s the after… the emotional hangover…

Delving into the romance of things

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So right before the COVID-19 lockdown and restricted movement shenanigans, I attended a writers salon and read for a group of people (most of who I did not know). It was a big night for me and I think I wrote about it here… though I am pretty sure I had a few more reactions to that night that I should delve into in another post… it was quite heavy stuff so maybe I will wait.

I think I love this word – delve… it’s got the right mix of sophistication without being too uppity and feels good when I write it and say it in my head… Slight digression but anywayyyy….

I am challenging myself and being really intentional about writing some sex scenes in my new romance novel. I skirted around this in my first book… I was slightly uncomfortable because I kept thinking about all the people that I know that would read that book. Also, there is a little voice inside that tells me that worse than people judging me for writing about sex, they would make judgements about my own preferences or experience.

Oy… very complex this… but you know, I think a good sex scene couched in a moving romance can be distinguishing and really elevate a story. As I am an avid reader of romance, I do think that a good love making leads to more satisfaction for the reader … from a story line perspective…

I think love making also provides the writer a more intimate space to explore complex issues about love and loving that would be difficult to otherwise delve into… you’d think that with such intimate spaces, a good sex scene can hopefully lead to an even better understanding of the characters, what motivates them, and really what they are looking for… but I am yet to overcome this fear of being silently judged.

I also think that there is also this African side of me that just feels shame about writing so openly about sex. This is more problematic because I think that the consumption of our stories requires a venture into those uncomfortable spaces and my hesitation maybe points to the need to soften and immerse myself into this experience. I imagine that this resistance is also about my ego and it’s rigid judgement about being open about sex and pleasure.

Whatever the reason may be, I think I owe it to myself to be brave and embrace this challenge.

I have decided to be intentional about facing this fear and write a couple of isolated sex scenes and see how I feel about it. I am wondering whether they are worth posting in the Confessional but I think I will decide when I get to a sizeable number. Maybe when I review them I will understand whether love making is in my repertoire of writing skills or not. I might even be able to confront and put to bed (— see what I did there — tee hee) this rigidity that makes me so aware of what is natural for lovers to do and for romance writers to describe.

Do you see how many times I used delve? Love this word. Maybe I will use it in all my sex scenes… mmmhhh…

*Oh wish me luck!*

And then COVID-19 changed the world

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So I haven’t written in a while. It’s been a tough couple of months since the first case of COVID-19 was registered in Kenya. I am not playing with ‘Rona so I have been self isolating… and have limited the number of people I interact with on a daily basis (careful to keep it under 3). Then I have worked from home since that case was announced.

Like many people, I thought that I would finally do the Shakespeare thing and come out of this COVID-19 isolation with a novel. Except I have been spent and not an ounce of creativity could be squeezed from my insides. I think I have been subconsciously directing all my energy towards survival and being content with the isolation, the silence, and the sometimes loneliness.

I have to admit that I am more hermit-ish than most people and so being isolated is not a big deal. But there are times when I wake up and wish there was someone else in the house to say “Good Morning” besides my dog… but then again, I am so happy that I get to expose my neurosis only to myself especially in these uncertain terms. So… well… it’s not clear if I am winning or not…

Anyway… for the first time today, after a writing dry spell of about two and a half months, I was finally able to write. Yes — this blog note is a major breakthrough for me! And also, I was a responsible author today and even looked at some edits from my previous book… I can’t stand the typos that were there… (palm-connect-to-face-several-times). I had started the re-edit process before COVID-19 and then lost my mojo.

I am not sure if I have enough mojo to do a new book (or complete all the ones I have started but can’t seem to finish) but I am hoping that I will have it in me to express all that is sitting inside me. There are so many stories that I hope I will get to tell — and so I pray with all that is within me that I will be able to let the creativity flow.

But I am grateful that I can write again. It feels like my soul is sighing and stretching into that magic that makes storytelling the most satisfying of activities.

*Blissful Sigh*

Reading at a writer’s salon

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This was at the writer’s salon organized by Warscapes Magazine and my first reading of Nostalgia and Other Short Stories. I was so inspired and will seek out more of these events. I think I enjoy meeting new people and sharing stories of love…

❤❤❤

Love is…

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So when I was younger I religiously read one of our daily newspapers, The Daily Nation, because it had this comic strip – Love is – which it turns outs, has an awesome love story about its creator and how she drew the cartoons for her future husband… *swoon*

I used to race each day to find what love was each day and I savored every reading.

Recently, I have been wondering what love really is — especially now that life has happened to me and things are not what I thought they would turn out to be.

Turns out that love is not as simple for me as I thought it would be. Unrequited feelings, loss, and personal tragedies make it difficult to ease into love or even to trust that things work out. Isolation is a safer space than it should be for a romantic… and I am far more familiar with loneliness than I ever thought I would be.

But this is not the only story about what love is or has been. I have loved many wonderful souls and some were really wonderful people to love. I have loved others who did not love me back. I was loved by some that I did not love back. So, really, love has been a retrospectively wonderful experience.

Some days, though, like today, love seems to be one endless journey of searching, connecting, disconnecting, falling and failing, and I suppose for the most part, just waiting. Waiting for something magical to find me and surprise me and stick with me… in the most pleasurably challenging ways.

https://loveiscomix.com/daily/20050914/
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wanting to be close

my heart went chasing Yours

your heart reflected back

a fear of longing and a need for acceptance

from what is truly you and

what no one else can give

please love me

create this space where we can run

together

please see me

step through the slit of distance

love me

reach the closed down depths that hide the breathing parts of me

choose this sacred room

Historical Romance

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The first time I read a Historical Romance novel, I had a weird reaction. I was late to the party so I must have been in my early twenties. Until that point, I had only explored contemporary fiction and romance — I really loved chic lit!

A friend was getting rid of her books and gave me a few new ones to try. Because of the book covers 🙄🙄🙄 I thought there was no chance in hell that I would enjoy them… except I did. There was something about the way the writing appealed to my fantasies… the phrases the characters used and the tenderness with which they expressed the simple desire to connect. I found that with historical romance, I was rooting for the couples to find each other, to resolve their conflicts, and to agree to let each other in…

Now if you’ve read these books, they’re very formulaic. They focus on the couples meeting, loving, conflict, then resolution of this conflict, and at last a satisfying or happy ending (usually they marry because this is often the goal). I didn’t expect to like this formula, but over time, I have relished and looked forward to discovering how these characters love, what makes them clash (and there’s a whole range of conflicts, I have found), and what makes them have faith that to love is to forgive, compromise, fight for the opportunity, etc., etc., etc.

For some reason this quest for love, in this particular format, also moves me the most. It is not unusual for me to feel sad when the couples fight or have my heart skip a beat when there is, at last, a confession of love. I am often frustrated when they just can’t get it together… all the near misses and unvoiced longings prolong the time to the confession and this is, of course, a highlight in this journey! So yeah… I am often very, very, invested.

Secretly too, if I have a love interest, I often think of them in these moments. My heart sighs with longing even as these characters move along their story line. I never would have thought that I can identify with the characters in these kind of books… but I guess the desire to be wanted and loved is “universal” in that sense. Maybe that’s really why I love all forms of romance.

In any case, reading a historical romance is today, one of the highest forms of indulgence for me. I savor and slow down the reading… only two to five pages at a time. I look forward to the next stage of conversation and to lovers finding love.

That’s not all. When I finish the book, if it’s not a Kindle purchase, I will lovingly shelf the copy and note the emotions I felt carefully. And then on a slow dusk evening or lonely day or weepy weather day, I will pull it back out and jump back to the places that made me feel, and reprise the emotions.

I love romance novels because of the possibilities, the words, and the tenderness they capture. It’s like a delightful box of written surprises.

Let me get back to my latest one… About a certain maidenly aunt and her beau, both in their fifties and looking at a second chance at love. I am about half way in… *Sigh* …

I have a silent ember of longing too… I need to feel the promise of finding true love for me. (I could also write a historical romance, too, huh?)… Let me see what side of hope they will push me towards.

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Quick thoughts

quick feet

quick hands

slow minds

slow movements into the horizon

so much trust between fingers

Gentle hearts and beats in time

“Yes!” in perpetuity

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Ok so I did this crazy thing and went to exhibit at the 2019 Nairobi Book Fair. I got the Judges’ Choice Award which was amazing… I felt embraced by the Universe. And so affirmed. I was so extra with the whole experience as I organized for a photographer to take beautiful pictures of the Booth… and me at the booth… and my many friends who came out to support me at the Booth.

I experienced magic in the many individuals I got to hug and be around. For me, seeing and being open to people I would never have otherwise met without putting on anything, was eve’thing.

I loved sharing and listening and being surrounded by other writers. There were so many different journeys that collided there and to witness it all was amazing.

You know, last year was the year of “Yes!” for me… but it seems to me that I have a year’s lag on this yes thing. I have been saying a lot more yes this year than ever before… Maybe it’s a yes in perpetuity thing… either way, I am loving the magic.