By the time you read this, I will be unshaven

Well, when you’re a student, you’re entitled to be decoratively unkempt with the bags under each eye developing hues unknown to planet earth, aren’t you?

The truth, as applied to this rather mature Master’s student more than halfway towards his end of Term 1 Assessments, may not be accurate externally, but I can assure you that one of the effects of the Prose and Poetry Modules workshops I have experienced to date is that, apart from enjoying each session to the Max, I am, internally…ruffled.

One of the challenges has been to write to order. 

Not since English lessons in 1974 have I been directed to write immediately or for a tight deadline, so the big question is ‘Does it work?’ 

Two examples.

A recent poetry workshop, designed to consign dull verbs to the nearest bin ‘the old flowers wilted’ is offered up for improvement. After sweat falling from my brow, ‘the flowers slouched, resigning themselves to old age’ is my offering.

Or a friend, after buying me a coffee, nonchalantly asking, ‘John, I’m preaching on God’s wrestling match with Jacob this Sunday. Would you write a poem…’. Instead of spilling my coffee and falling to the floor weeping, ‘Woe is me, I’m undone! Forsooth, my creative juices lie abandoned in an airless cupboard!’ I keep a steady gaze and hope that my short, staccato reply is less like the squeak I heard: ‘Yes, OK, no problem. Love to’.

To my surprise, being put on the spot hasn’t been the disaster that the little warning voice in my head loves to prophesy. (For fans of Dead Ringers, think David Lammy)

Writing is a mysterious experience. Even if you confidently assert that your ideas and creativity find their origin entirely in your imagination, that there is no external source, the question remains: do you control your imagination? I’ve often used the image of surfing. You may fetch your board and swim out amongst the waves, but then you wait for a wave that will lift you up and make you fly. Writing to order, however, requires you to turn on an internal imagination tap until multi-coloured water, creative writing, starts to trickle, to stream, or to gush…on a good day.

If you favour creative freedom over writing to order, here’s the challenge recently laid at my door: let go of your freedom and ask someone to give a time-limited writing challenge. You may be pleasantly surprised with the result!

Why will I be unshaven and unkempt by November 7th? Because my lecturers are stepping up the pressure, I’m under the cosh, my hand is constantly turning the tap on and off at their command. Assessments pending.

Oh! And my apologies to my old English teacher for starting that sentence with ‘Because’. It’s almost as bad as including unnecessary words like train station or rain shower. Or ghastly rhymes like train and rain. Oh dear! I think I'd better turn off the rant tap.