This time last year, I was writing my way to sanity.
We were sitting in diagnosis hell as we awaited meeting after meeting, when medics decided, or didn’t, the next steps for Mr M following an emergency stay in hospital.
This week, I was rooting through my publishing folder and came across a poster that sat on my desk during that time.
For the most part, like a bad computer programme, I deleted much of my memory of those times as it was so painful.
Through it all, somehow, I did write. I also continued to see the fruits of my labour as stories appeared in print throughout the year from work I had previously submitted.
As a thank you, I am sending out a short story to my paid subscribers, and it is very apt for this time of year. It’s called All The Small Things and one of the main vehicle drivers (no pun intended - but yes!) is an Eriba caravan - one of the smallest and most iconic on the market.
TRAVEL
It’s coming to the time of year again when I do think about travel and where our “main” adventure this year might be. I used to plan far in advance and do so much research into the places we were travelling to, that little was left to chance. A museum closed on a Wednesday? We’d change our days around to ensure we saw it (except when the library in Munich was closed to tours and I didn’t manage to see it!).
One of the ways the last year has changed us is in our planning. We don’t plan too far in advance. We don’t research to the inch. We explore more. We take our time. Because we are aware of the time we have, right now.
WRITING AND PLACE
Place and setting have always been meaningful to me - as a reader and a writer. Looking back, I remember my dad and his four books a week (yes!) from the library, there would be fiction and maybe something else in the bundle. Often, it was about far-flung places, this working-class girl in the 1970s could never dream of visiting.
Egypt in particular held a fascination for him, probably because he spent time there as a very young man in the army. I remember he bought a large hardback book about the pyramids, and I’d leaf through it regularly. He was an armchair traveller once he was married, as my mum was a total homebody - and although she enjoyed relaxing abroad, sitting in a cafe and watching the world go round, she wasn’t much for the travelling bit of it!
Mr M always understood we would travel. Once we had children, they came, too. We’ve seen many countries, holidayed in lots of different areas, and explored closer to home - we’ve travelled all the way between John O’Groats in Scotland to Lands End in England and seen so much in between. We’ve travelled by plane, boat (ferry), train, caravan, and, more recently, motorhome.
Many of those places have featured in my stories, some no doubt known to people, and some which I may have shown in a different light.
I love this about reading when somewhere ordinary can deliver such a story that we’re held there for the time of reading (if it’s a short story), or immersed for so much longer (if it’s a novel). It’s the same for the author during writing.
I wrote about settings previously, and you can find that Post here:
TIME
Time for me stands still when I’m on holiday - away from the usual diary appointments or daily timetable. I love how the days can stretch out right up until sundown with a glass or cup of something lovely. In Scotland, up north, this can be quite late into the evening!
I decided to leave my summer cushions outside on our L-shaped seating on the decking. Look, I live in Scotland and may regret this - but the set is six years old, so perhaps I ought not to worry so much. After all, it is there for me to enjoy! I’ve religiously put the cushions away after every use and slipped the cover over the framework, but that makes it a bit of a malarkey if you want to pop out for a five-minute cuppa break, or an evening stretch to listen to the birdsong of an evening. So, I’m leaving those cushions out - but I will cover them up. As I said, it’s Scotland. Heatwave one day (yes, it was on Monday) and rain and hail likely the next day (jumpers back on).
As I alluded to earlier, time got away from me last year. When someone is ill (or is dying in the case of my mum), then it doesn’t really matter what day of the week it is, or what month it is - you are just “there”.
MAKING SENSE
Some years back when my brother, David, was extremely ill in hospital - critical and on a ventilator in an induced coma, when he woke he was extremely confused about everything that had happened. It had taken days for Doctors to work out it was legionella - and only then could they begin to treat it properly.
Afterwards, David would sit with a folded piece of paper and ask his visitors questions, ask the Doctors questions about what had happened and when. It seemed to be important to his wellbeing- that he needed to understand the timeline of what had happened - and come to terms with such a life-changing event.
I did the same after he died. I’d lost track of which day it was, even though he was less than 10 days from diagnosis to dying in the hospice. I had to write things down to remind myself the daily track of his illness. To try to come to terms with what had really happened.
PLANNING
As I move into a new wave of storytelling - the type that is a bigger story, a bigger picture, with a timeline, I find myself going back through my diary of last year and remembering forgotten parts of it - quite a lot of it enjoyable and good stuff - and I’m able to reconnect with something deeper.
Yes, we weren’t in crisis. Then we were.
We were waiting. Until we weren’t.
No wonder the feeling of time felt weird through that period.
Yet somehow we made it through. He made it through.
We were not alone. We’re not alone.
So, I’m planning this year’s adventure. It’s not any of the adventures we had planned last year - it doesn’t feel right to try to replicate what we’d hoped for during 2025 when what we got wasn’t disappointment of cancelled trips, but confirmation of life. More time.
More time - that doesn’t mean a “special” or “once in a lifetime” kind of trip and travel. Just gladness at the ability to do anything we want this coming month. To step into the motorhome and…go.
So it’s likely that in a few weeks time, I’ll be writing from somewhere different, bringing you something different.
In the meantime, I’m still thinking and planning and writing. And travelling.
Hope you are too.
Love from Jackie in the Little Writing Corner in Scotland
PS Here’s a Post I wrote last year about All The Small Things (the full short story will go to paid subscribers this month - if you are only just signed up and happen to miss it, drop me a DM and I’ll sort it out for you).
