January and February lasted forever, but March—where did that go?
I was determined to make progress with my writing this month. I was picking up pace and hoping to finish one of my many works in progress. March is a long month. The days were stretching ahead, promising warmer and brighter days, and I was sure I’d have time to do everything I wanted. Then, I blinked, and there went March.
I’m not going to dwell on all the things I haven’t done though. I’m going to celebrate the small steps—the little things that will one-day (hopefully one day soon and preferably this decade) make a big difference to my writing career, propelling me to the top of the Sunday Times book chart, literary stardom and a six-figure publishing deal.
So, my writing wins this month. Well… there was this Substack.
I’ve been writing Midlife Without a Map for 18 months now, which is definitely something to celebrate. Getting a piece out every week takes a lot of time and effort and some weeks it’s nothing short of a miracle.
Take last week, as an example. Last week I was ill. I was feeling so poorly on Friday that I took myself off to the GP surgery, hoping to find a GP. There was no sign of anyone with a medical qualification—just a grumpy receptionist, eating a custard cream.
I came home, picked up my laptop and started writing about the experience. I wrote and wrote and wrote. The process distracted me from my pain, but what was supposed to be a 1200-word essay quickly escalated into a novella-length piece of work.
‘Maybe this is too long,’ I thought, but I couldn’t stop. I had a lot of frustrations to vent about the state of the medical system.
On Saturday, I continued writing. The essay-come-novella became more of a book, and still I tapped away on my keyboard. After a day of writing, I felt too unwell to face editing. I was lacking the energy required to whip something of such a size into shape.
‘I’ll have to leave my Substack this week,’ I told Chris. ‘I’m not well. Do you think that will be okay?’
I tried to stay positive, telling myself it didn’t matter. It was just a week, but a part of me felt like I was giving up.
‘It would be a shame to lose your streak,’ Chris said. ‘After all this time.’
Those words from my lovely husband inspired me to get to work and publish a piece. So, last Sunday, I abandoned the essay-novella-book which was becoming an epic of Middlemarch proportions and instead started a smaller more manageable piece. It was late going out, but at least it went.
If there is anyone out there reading and maybe even looking forward to my work on a Sunday (hello), I didn’t want them thinking I’d gone AWOL.
The other pieces I wrote in March.
And you’ll be very pleased to know that I am still working on the essay turned epic, so you have that to look forward to soon.
In other writing
In other writing, I have been attempting to get my current nonfiction book organised. It’s a mess of scribbled and emailed notes, and I’ve been trying to piece it together and make sense of the chaos. I’d rather have wrestled a hippopotamus than spend my precious 5am writing club time doing admin organisational things, but it needed tackling. I’m getting there. The book is 12 chapters and I’m currently nine down with three to go and have been for the past week. I’m no productivity expert, but I may be procrastinating with this project.
It’s been a good month for ideas—even when I was bored to death on the admin tasks, they just kept on coming, whizzing into my head and demanding I take notice. I’ve had so many ideas that I’ve struggled to capture them all. I’d scribble them down on paper, type them on my laptop or email myself notes—adding to the organisational nightmare that I’m trying to resolve.
If anyone asked me to describe my creative process, I would say, it’s really rather a mess.
Fun stuff
I don’t know if you know this about me, but I am a Jason Donovan fan. Since 1988, when I was nine, and he was 20, singing ‘Nothing Can Divide Us’, I’ve loved him. I’m 45 now and he’s 56, but I’m still a fan.
The first time I went to see him (Leeds Town Hall, 2015, Even More Good Reasons tour), he waved to me. He burst on to stage singing the ‘B’ side to ‘Especially for You’. Not many people—only the die-hard fans—know that one, so I was straight to my feet singing and dancing. At which point, Jason Donovan waved to me. I don’t mean to boast, but he actually looked really pleased to see me. I was so excited, buzzing on a Jason Donovan high, that after the show, I forgot where I’d parked my car and spent a good hour wandering round the multi-storey trying to find it.
The second time I saw him was in 2022. After the lockdown years, I was let loose at a Jason Donovan concert, and it was utterly marvellous. I thought he might remember me, pick me out in the crowd and give me a wave, but I think I was too far back.
The third time was a few weeks ago at the York Barbican for his Doin’ Fine tour. We had a blast. Even Chris was on his feet and swaying in time to the beat.
I invested in a 25-quid programme, thinking I’d read it the next day with a cup of tea, devouring the JD words. But there were no words—just pictures. Lots of pictures of 56-year-old JD frolicking and floppy haired in poses he was doing 36 years ago.
I was disappointed, but Siobhan from Leeds, who I met in the queue, was ecstatic. She put the life-sized picture of JD over her husband’s face and pretended to hump him. Hahahahahahahaha.
I’m still laughing now.
More fun stuff
We had a family outing to Selfridges in Manchester to buy some fish and chip Jellycats for my niece Olivia. They are only available in store, so Olivia invited everyone in the family. I thought she wanted to spend quality time with us all together, but more likely she hoped we’d all chip in (see what I did there) and instead of just one fish and chip Jellycat, she’d have the set.
My sister got excited about the salt and pepper pots.
Chris liked the peas even though he never has peas on his fish and chips. Ever. (Mum, if you’re reading. NO PEAS FOR CHRIS).
And I have to say, the fish had a lovely face. I picked it up and showed it to Mum.
‘That looks a bit battered,’ she said. ‘Hahaha. Do you get it? Battered!... I didn’t even intend it as a joke, but it’s funny.’
What I’ve been watching
Chris and I went to see A Streetcar Named Desire at the Crucible, which I thought was fantastic, but the critics didn’t seem to agree.
And, like almost everyone else in the country, we’ve been watching Adolescence. It was all rather depressing. I went to bed feeling disturbed and ended up dreaming of Donald Trump. The next day I was in a slump all day, worried about the state of the world.
In other news, I’ve been looking to purchase a new North Face jacket. I found a lovely teal coloured one, which said it was ‘mountain ready’.
‘Just like me,’ I thought, but with all its extra panels, pockets and layering, it was probably more suited to someone heading to Everest Base Camp than an off-road walk to the Fox and Hounds on a Friday night.
So that was April—Substack celebrations, close encounters with Jason Donovan, dreaming of Donald Trump, illness, and the kindness of strangers.
Today, we’re heading to my sister’s to celebrate Mother’s Day and her birthday, and because fish and chip Jellycats have been the talk of our family chat for most of this month, we are eating fish and chips. (Mum, no peas for Chris).
Hope you have a wonderful day.
Liz xx
How was your month? Let me know in the comments. I’d love to hear.
I’m pleased that those times we sang ‘Especially for You’ in your car have come in useful 🎤
Your description of the receptionist made me smile. I trained as a medical secretary and spent some work placements as a GP receptionist and then years later wrote a sitcom for radio called 'Receptionists'. I sent it to a comedy producer and he said, 'It didn't make me laugh on the first page and if it doesn't make me laugh on the first page, there's no deal.' Brutal! But he was right. Also, regarding Adolescence, I was so tempted to renew my Netflix account just to watch that but so many people have said how depressing it is and now you've confirmed it. I think I've seen enough clips of it on Instagram to have got the drift anyway. Sorry for long comment!! Not quite a novella, but ...