A correction, a change, a request.

Intentions are great, but accountability gets it done

The correction

It’s been nearly 3 months since I last posted. Though the date on my last post would tell you otherwise. I don’t know why it says April ‘23. I most definitely wrote it in August. I can’t find a way to correct it on the actual post but I also can’t just let it go because I doooooo like things to be right. I’m pretty easy going about most things, but errors in my writing haunt me.

So to put that ghost to bed, let it be known by way of this post, that I wrote the last one in August.

The change

At that time, I had every intention of writing in here at least once a week. Well that didn’t happen did it. Almost every night I have sat in Grandad’s blue chair and a million and one things have entered and left my brain. I have captured none of them.

Just in case you’re curious, here’s a brief summary of those thoughts I remember passing through the old mind matter …

• if this chair had a foot rest, I reckon I could fall asleep here and snooze for hours.

• how does my body know to make milk for this baby? Where does it come from?! OUCH … might be time to wean onto formula!

• God I could kill for a jammie dodger right now.

• How many pairs of dungarees are too many pairs of dungarees?

• I need to ‘flipchart and pen’ the shit out of this mass of tangled story ideas to get them out of my head and create a plan.

• Ooooh a plan! I blooming LOVE a plan!

• Why does flipcharting feel better than laptopping.

• Oh balls, I haven’t posted on substack.

• Autumn is my favourite. Until winter, because then winter is my favourite.

• Oh! I should have called the whole thing “Grandad’s Blue Chair.”

So that’s the change I’m making. After a short stint as Writing Out Loud, I’m changing the name to Grandad’s Blue Chair. It really is where the beginnings of anything I write here will emerge, so it feels completely right.

The request

Finally, my request. And it’s to anyone here reading this.

Writing is my joy. On here, it is an outlet for thoughts that can crowd the mind. It clears space and helps me articulate things that are maybe making the mind a bit blurry.

Then there’s my poems and stories. The time to create, to indulge and immerse myself in imagination. There is so much in my head, in my bones, that wants to burst free.

But for both of these to happen, I need to be held accountable. I’m a new mumma, I have a business to run (also writing, yes, but for others, not for me). So finding the time is not easy.

My ask therefore is that YOU hold me accountable. If its been a while since I’ve posted on Substack, give me a nudge. Ask me what progress I’ve made on writing my next childrens book (the first one is very nearly ready for print!). Give me a swift boot to the backside about my chick-lit book that feels as if I will never complete.

Remind me to carve out the time to be the writer I’ve always wanted to be.

Until next time … (she says!)

Lyds x