Express Yourself

Grrrr ... Some weeks it feels anything, anything at all would be easier than writing. Llama farming in the Andes? Count me in. Galician barnacle picker? Sounds good. How do you deal with the frustrations that come with creative work? In the face of rejection, rewrites, recession do you give as good as you get, or give up? This has been a tough week, but I'm still standing and I've held on to John and Son's excellent zen like advice from the other day - 'leave your mind alone'. When I spoke to the nice man from the Arts Council today about why my literature grant application had been stamped 'not eligible' he said they needed proof that the grant would be invested wisely - ie, a previously published successful novel. Did I bang my head on the table? No. I said politely: 'Well, that's a Catch 22 isn't it? If the first book had already been published I wouldn't need a grant to help research the next one.' He laughed dryly, 'Well, perhaps you would.'

Nothing like looking on the bright side. Strangely having taken the decision to stop looking for solutions - to just let things be and take a break for a few days, ideas for new work have been raining down. Does that happen to you? If you take the pressure off perhaps it gives your mind space to come up with the very things you were looking for. Or maybe it's just one of those strange times. All you can do is run to catch the ideas when they fall. Some of them will take root and some won't. One in particular I'm so excited about I'd love to start work researching straight away instead of hustling for paid editorial work. But that's life - there are bills to pay and work to be juggled. It may be freezing cold, and raining, the oil's run out and Easter hols are looming, but where's that stoical British Blitz spirit?: 'Mustn't grumble', 'It's brightening up later', and 'You've got to laugh' ... especially at yourself.

Q: How many writers does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Ten. One to change it and nine to say, "I could have done that."

Q: How many poets does it take to change a lightbulb.?
A: Two. One to look at the bulb and think of his mother and one to stand at the window and watch the rain.

Q: How many playwrights does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Change? Change? Why does it have to change? It's perfect just the way it is.

Q: How many actors does it take to change a light bulb?
A: All of them. One to change the bulb, and the rest to talk about how much better they could have done it.

Q: How many visitors to an Art Gallery does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Two. One to do it and one to say "Huh! My four-year old could've done that!"

Q: How many editors does it take to change a lightbulb?
A: Editors aren't supposed to change lightbulbs. They should just query them.

Q. How many publishers does it take to change a light bulb?
A. Three. One to make the change, two to hold down the author.

Q. How many cover-blurb writers does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: A VAST AND TEEMING HORDE STRETCHING FROM SEA TO SHINING SEA!!!!

Q: How many literary agents does it take to change a light bulb?
A: None; agents don't make changes for you. If you make the change, though, I think we can sell this sucker.

Q: How many magical realist writers does it take to change a light bulb?
A: None: the light bulb just changes, for no apparent reason, into a baby. The baby is calling your name. It's still snowing.

Q: How many thriller writers does it take to change a light bulb?
A: Stop! Don't touch the lightbulb! It's wired to a bomb! And my god: it's ticking! Duck, they're shooting at us for no apparent reason! It's a good thing they always miss!

Q: How many critics does it take to change a light bulb?
A: One to be highly critical of the design elements, one to express contempt for the glow of the lamp, one to lambaste the wattage used, one to discuss at length his interpretation of wattage used, one to observe how trite the use of a light bulb was, one to critique the performance of the bulb itself, one to recall superb light bulbs of past seasons and lament how this one fails to measure up, and all to join in the refrain, reflecting on how they could build a better light bulb in their sleep.

Q. How many mystery writers does it take to screw in a light bulb?
A: Two, one to screw it almost all the way in and the other to give it a surprising twist at the end.

TODAY'S PROMPT: Take a leaf out of lovely Audrey's book and express yourself. Why not share your favourite jokes or funny stories about writing in the comments and cheer everyone up? Enjoy the weekend ...