Tag Archives: Poetry

Writing, Impostor Syndrome and Productivity: a Confessional

This started out as a late night Twitter post but I think, I hope, it’s worth posting it here. It was inspired in part by SFF writer Matt Dovey’s own, extremely honest thread about the doubts and tribulations regarding his writing process. Since it resonated so hard with me, I can imagine it resonating with others.

This is what I wrote yesterday, expanded a little, because I’m not restricted to 280 characters here!

“I wrote a new poem. That’s a much bigger deal than it sounds. I haven’t dared to write anything truly new in four years: since I was nominated for a BSFA Award in 2017.

In hindsight, I found the sudden sense of scrutiny crushingly intimidating: it juddered me to a slow crawl, during which I made many notes and obsessively squinted at poems/fiction I’d been writing already. I barely submitted anything. What I did submit bounced, usually with encouraging noises attached; two publications that did accept pieces sadly folded before they could bring their project to life.

Looking at that, it was my confidence that was shot (by getting an award nomination.. the irony), rather than my work lacking, per se. Not that I saw it that way, I was my own worst heckler. But considering no one else at the time went: ‘Your work stinks, Suna, give up!’, I was definitely getting in my own way. I did an interview here, a blog post there. I could talk up a storm about my WIP’s. I just omitted they’d been ‘IP’ since 2011 or thereabouts! I knew intellectually it’s fine if you’re not prolific for a while, or at least not as prolific as you feel you should be. To not beat yourself up on top of everything else. Easy to understand, harder to break. Especially since words and concepts swam opaquely around my head but I just didn’t seem to have the whats to capture them with a pen.

I never entirely stopped but my heart wasn’t entirely in it, either. I just dribbled occasional words into notepads or my writing app. Then something did change. As insidiously as my confidence leaked away, my will to write crept back. I’d love to say I made a conscious choice to grow a spine, but it grew over time.

A drabble prompt clinched it: short enough to not be daunting, challenging enough to make blood flow back into places I thought I had only tar. It got accepted almost immediately. The validation, the sense that I am doing something right after all, helped enormously, too 🙂

I felt excited about writing again. There was movement, albeit still a bit uncertainly. Then I read Matt Dovey’s thread. A long heartfelt sharing of his difficulties, obstacles both internal and extrnal, his doubts: his honesty and vulnerability were so moving and galvanising, it helped stoke up the fire in me. Yesterday, I used another call for submissions to write an entirely new piece. What made all the difference: I spent no time fretting about The Gallery of Scrutiny, its nameless judgements and the shameful sense I should pander to it. It was mine.

I still lack structure. Music is partially responsible, but really, it’s discipline and I am inconsistent. But I’m writing again and I’m happy about it. Matt’s post really yanked my chain in the best possible way, it helped me to nail my courage to the sticking place and I’m so grateful he shared it. I’m excited for his newfound fuel as much as mine and I look forward to reading his upcoming work.”

Afterthought after having posted the thread: “Maybe I’ll hardly publish actual fiction again. The most important and liberating thing is that the shouldism and self-judgement are gone. I play music, I perform. It’s an infinite luxury to have a creative career at all. When they flow, there are words. I’ve made amazing friends through writing. If you’re still reading, you are probably one of them, so: thank you.”

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2018: Steampunk, SpecFic, Music and more!

Happy New Year!

Seldom do I post (for regular updates Twitter is best), yet now I have many excitements to impart. Please make like the tiny turtles in Finding Nemo and scooch together, my kind followers.

2017 ended on a high note with big gig conformations for Erin Bennett: Planet Rock’s Winter’s End Festival, (we play on Sat 24/02) plus Hawkwind’s Hawkeaster Happening, in Morecambe. Krow, too, has an epic gig confirmed – announcement coming soon! New album releases are pending for both. (For those of you who followed this blog fairly recently; I sing backing vox in both bands, which is how I make a living. I write in the gaps.) The Cherry on the Christmas Cake: invites for contributions to two new anthologies & a speculative poem for a third.

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2018 started with a bang because oh, my goodnes; My short story ‘Unmade‘ (featured in Steampunk Writers Around the World) has been nominated for a BSFA by the British Science Fiction Association! Many congratulations to all fellow nominees & my open minded publishers at Luna Press Edinburgh.

For the full list of nominees in all categories, see the BSFA website.

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Filed under Awards, Books, Diversity, EDM, Events, Music, Music Festival, Prog Rock, Rock, Science Fiction, SciFi, Short Fiction, Speculative Fiction, Steampunk, Writing

Mini Documentary on The Last Mughal Zafar narrated by William Dalrymple

imageMirza Abu Zafar Sirajuddin Muhammad Bahadur Shah was the last Mughal emperor. He succeeded his father, Akbar II, on his death in 1837. Under nom de plume Zafar, which means victory, he was a prolific Urdu poet, writing many ghazals. His authority was limited to the city of Delhi only.

Following his involvement in the Indian Rebellion of 1857, the British exiled him to Burma, which was British-owned at the time. The above photograph shows him after his trials and before being shipped off to Rangoon.

This 8 minute video

Zafar the Last Mughal

is a very potted history of his life and is narrated by writer William Dalrymple, the author of the fantastic and highly recommended books ‘The Last Mughal’ and ‘White Mughals’, among many other beautifully written works on India’s history, culture and current affairs.

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Filed under Books, History, India, Victorian PoC, Victoriana