Writing and reinvention

(Image shows a Scare Devil from the Nicobar Islands – courtesy of https://www.flickr.com/photos/maggiejones/7142224553)

As you might guess from my last post, I’m going through something of an introspective phase at the moment. This was to be expected after leaving my place of employment for 30 years, but I think is also exacerbated by a) my field of ed tech becoming essentially only about AI, which doesn’t excite me much and b) the whole Trumpian dismantling of existing global norms within which I thought I would be operating.

This means I’ve been going through something of a reinvention dialogue with myself (and Maren, and the poor dogs). I expect I am not alone in this. As part of this I booked myself a writing retreat last week, just me and Teilo for a week in West Wales in a little cottage by the sea. Accompanied only by my trusty hound, a selection of M&S ready meals and a range of fruity IPAs, I set off to see if I could get anywhere near realising my childhood dream of writing a novel.

I’ve been chipping away at this for the past 6 months, and last week was an attempt at a more intensive sprint to get to something like a finished book. In that respect it was a success, I go to over 50,000 words, which is a shortish novel, but a novel nonetheless. I don’t say that they are good words, but they are definitely words. And not just the same one or random ones (or AI generated ones).

If I take it further then I’ll blog more about the actual book (a cozyish horror novel) at some stage, but this post is more focused on the value of writing itself as part of the reinvention process. Here are some things that attempting a novel gave me.

A large, structured project. You don’t appreciate how much work provides this foundation for you, and the subsequent structure it provides. While I have lots of bits of interests, I definitely needed something meatier that I could monitor defined progress on and see develop.

A challenge. I have written academic books and papers, but I haven’t turned my hand to fiction previously. There was something vulnerable about doing so, but also exhilarating to be the new kid again rather than the wizened old hand.

Interesting areas to research. During the course of developing the plot I have had to research the fishing techniques of the Nicobarese, arm fractures, web design, mythology of the Indian Ocean, types of window and the Japanese phenomenon of Hikikomori. As someone who likes to dabble across a range of topics (as Metaphors of Ed Tech demonstrates), this has been very rewarding.

Playing with a new identity. We all have multiple facets to our identity and a strong, consistent one of my was “Martin from the OU” for a long time. I’m now exploring other identities, including Instagram Vinyl influencer, UK hockey analytics blogger and now, fiction writer. I don’t know if any of this will persist or gain traction, but it is fun to explore.

What this indicates for me is that while I am very up for Netflix buying the rights to my first novel and Matt Damon starring in the adaptation, I have enjoyed the activity for itself. As Maren and I were discussing in her podcast on blogging, the process is the thing. Plenty of people take up painting in retirement (or any other time) and while they want to get better at it, they don’t usually expect (and others don’t ask it of them) to become renowned artists. We acknowledge painting (or pottery or knitting or many other crafts) as rewarding in themselves. I don’t think that is always the case with writing fiction – it is generally felt that a commercially viable outcome is the goal. While that is great, like those other hobbies, it’s also fulfilling in itself.

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