“If you want to be a writer, you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot.” 

Stephen King

I’d like to say I’m doing both of the above but that would be a lie. I haven’t written for ages (unless a shopping list counts) and I can probably add up on one hand all the books I’ve read in the last year and still have fingers spare.

The second to last book I read, ‘The Seven Ages of Death’ by Dr Richard Shepherd was genuinely so good I had no idea what to read after I’d finished it. I can’t do it justice here, it deserves a post of it’s own but that would mean I’d have to do some more writing, and we already know that’s probably going to be a problem.

Two months after finishing this book I did pick up another book and idly and non-committedly flicked through the pages. The book, ‘Atomic Habits’ by James Clear talks about how to make small changes to your existing habits so you can achieve long term changes. I’m not sure which chapter caught my eye but it led to me buying the book. Six weeks later and I’m about half way through it. This isn’t a reflection on the book but more because I’ve found reading (any reading) difficult for a while now. It’s as though I read the words but they don’t make sense. I have to re-read a lot and this is probably why I have so many unread or half finished books sitting despondently on my shelves.

As reading seems to be hard work I thought I’d try writing. It turns out this is hard work too. My brain just doesn’t seem to want to engage. I’ve spent hours tweaking my WordPress site, looking at old posts and articles hoping for inspiration or optimistically starting new posts only to still be faced hours later with a blank screen and an impatiently blinking cursor.

Apparently Mark Twain said, “Write what you know”………….

Early in February last year (2022) we were at a black tie dinner at the RAF Club in London. This was for an event to raise funds to help build the first De Havilland Mosquito in the UK for more than 70 years. I’d just like to stress that this was a treat, a rare occurrence and a world apart from our usual Saturday evening on the couch or at the cinema with a bag of Haribo Giant Strawbs. Aside from the sheer panic already instilled by the dress code (ladies were required to wear a dress or a gown and I usually don’t do either), the moment I walked through the door, my social awkwardness at this event was exacerbated further by my ungainliness due to a sudden inexplicable inability to walk gracefully in the heels I was wearing. If you add to this a slightly embarrassing but (for now) discreetly concealed issue with a ‘hold up’ that wasn’t holding up, it didn’t bode well. The evening began with drinks in the Churchill Bar and with large measures of a well known bourbon (aka ‘Dutch courage’) in hand, we managed to retreat to a slightly less crowded area by the fireplace. I tried unsuccessfully to take this opportunity to covertly reinstate my errant ‘hold up’ to at least close to the correct position but ended up looking like I was scratching some sort of rapidly moving itch just above my right knee. We ended up in polite conversation with another couple who were clearly in a different lifestyle league to us (this turned out to be a recurring theme throughout the evening) but we chatted pleasantly until we were called upstairs for dinner. Having found our table I excused myself so I could find the toilets and show this ‘hold up’ who was boss. It turns out it wasn’t me. After foolishly thinking the issue had been remedied, I walked back to the table only to feel the damn ‘not hold up’ doing it’s best Nora Batty impression just above my right knee again. Feeling it was a little too soon to return to the ladies’ room I took my place at the table. If I was sitting down it wasn’t likely to be going anywhere.

As I pulled my chair towards the table I was met with a rather inconvenient obstacle in the form of a table leg. This didn’t really leave me with many options as I couldn’t move my chair to either side of it. It’s fair to say that by this point, I was feeling less than ladylike. I looked around the table at my fellow guests and was delighted to see by some wonderful twist of fate (or someone not quite thinking about the seating plan), that I was the only female on a table of eleven men. Eleven men who all seemed to notice at exactly the same time that I was the only female at the table. It wasn’t uncomfortable in the slightest. It made me question again why I’d been allocated the slightly intrusive table leg when I was the only one wearing a dress, and a wrap dress at that.

I was now so far out of my comfort zone that what I intended to be an attempt at small talk and polite dinner conversation (neither of which I excel at), may have inadvertently turned into an awkward ambush of the guest to my immediate right. This poor unsuspecting guest was Steve Darlow who I later discovered to be a successful publisher and military aviation author who is also involved in writing theatrical productions.

After a suitably acceptable period of time, I excused myself from the table and returned to the ladies’ room to free myself from the ‘not hold up’ which was threatening to slither down my leg at any moment like a discarded snake skin. I admitted defeat and took both hold ups off, shoving them somewhat unceremoniously into the world’s smallest clutch bag and forcing it shut. The shoes had obviously come off during this process and whilst the heels I was wearing may have looked good with the dress, they were less compatible with my feet which had decided to swell significantly in rebellion. After an unpleasant scene reminiscent of the ugly sisters in Cinderella trying to shove their oversized feet into the delicate glass slipper, with my feet squashed mercilessly into my shoes, I hobbled my way out of the toilets, back to the table where I again navigated the table leg.

Now before I carry on I feel it’s only fair to tell you that it’s now April 30th, 2023. This is the first time I’ve logged into the website since I started this blog post around a year ago and it’s been saved as a draft since then. That not only goes to prove my point at the start that I’m not writing frequently (or at all!) but it also means I have no idea where I was going with this post when I started writing it! How does the title I chose even manage to weave via a black tie fundraising event at the RAF Club in London to build a Mosquito plane, to some honest, naked truth about me? Where was the Mark Twain quote leading? Answers on a postcard please!

When I look back on that evening I think what I took from it, (apart from wear sensible shoes and make sure you check the integrity of your holdups before you leave the hotel), is that you should write about what you love, what you know. Steve clearly had a great passion and knowledge for the things he wrote about and a successful and expanding career. At the moment I don’t know if I have a particular topic that I enjoy writing about, I just like words and even though there’s irrefutable evidence to the contrary, I like writing.

In an unfortunate twist of fate I came back from London with Covid which at least gave me the opportunity to read a book. I managed to work my way through Richard Osman’s, ‘The Thursday Murder Club’.

If you’d like to learn more about what the evening was fundraising for you can visit The People’s Mosquito website here.

If you have an interest in military aviation then you can read more about Steve Darlow here.

I have a further confession to make…..it’s now mid July (still 2023 at least!) and if you’ve made it this far, you won’t be remotely shocked by the revelation that this is the first time I’ve logged into this site since the end of April. In my defence (albeit a weak one), I have done some reading since April – at least seven books (see my Goodreads list for proof!) and I’m around half way through my 8th. I could lie and say in between reading I’m writing draft posts or book reviews but actually I’m probably just watching cat / cute animal videos on Instagram – I know, don’t judge me.

For the first time in years, I feel like my passion for reading has genuinely been re-ignited. I still don’t always find it easy to read and I’m a long way off reading the number of books I used to, but the simple pleasure of curling up with a purring cat and the next chapter is something I’m really enjoying.

As for the writing, well I think anyone reading this would agree that I still need to work on that!