Already that Saturday morning I’d finished sorting the clothes for our family holiday; made a detailed shopping list; left instructions on completion of the shopping, chores, organisation of the children and packing up of the car; gone into town to get my hair cut; phoned home to indicate that supervising children watching breakfast TV wasn’t on the list of things to be done; and left the hairdresser’s with hair still wet, unstyled, to avoid a parking ticket.

It was half past ten.  The clock was ticking but I still had time to finish what I had to do.  Ignoring the chaos at home I sped down to the office block where I worked, signed in at the security desk, noticed but didn’t stop to read a large poster about ‘TESTS’ with that day’s date on it, and crept through the silent, eerily half-lit building to my desk.

There was still Work To Be Done.  I had a letter to write, a piece of ministerial correspondence. I was working at the time as a civil servant, and part of the job involved drafting replies on behalf of government ministers to send out to other politicians, dignatories, members of the public and so on.  It was Important Work.  It was a Green Folder, and Green Folders were Important Work.

(The letters, draft replies and accompanying notes used to get passed around the office in a green folder, hence the name.  Although everything was done by computer even in the olden days of 12 years ago, they were still known as Green Folders.)

I settled down at my desk, in the half-light, and set about the work.  Half an hour later and my fingers were flying.  My brain was whirring and the words were pouring forth.  This letter was nearly done, I could send it off, switch off, and go home and rejoin the fun chaos.

Then… boom!

Okay, it was just a dull boom, more of a puff really, but as the computer sighed the screen went dead.  Black.  Empty.  Silent.

Don’t panic, I thought.

I checked the computer.  Applied all my technical expertise.  Switched it off, then on.  Then off, then on.

Nothing, nada, niente.

The machine was dead.

Don’t panic, I thought. You’ve still got time.  Use another machine.

I moved round the corner to another machine.  Switched it on and got back to work.  The draft was gone but the words were still flying around my head.  I could recreate it.  I could still finish the draft, add the notes, send it on, switch it all off and be back at home in time to resume the chaos fun.

The clock was ticking faster.  My fingers were slipping on the keyboards.  The words were jumbling as I tried to formulate the perfect sentence to get the dratted thing finished and sent off in time.  The clock kept ticking, but I was nearly there then…

Boom.

That dull boom, or was it a thud or a puff… No matter.  I recognised the sound.  I saw what it did to the screen.  Dead.  Black.  Empty. Silent.

I started to cry.

Determinedly applied my technical expertise once again: don’t panic, switch off, switch on, switch off, switch on… but I knew what the outcome would be.

Nothing.  Nada.  Niente.

No Green Folder for me.  Out of time to try again.  A broken machine on my desk.  And a silent, empty screen on my colleague’s work station.

I started writing notes of explanation, of apology and regret.  Offers to fix, and recompense, and do penance on my return.

But finally, regretfully, realising that I was out of time to do more.

I walked quietly back out of the building.  Noticed once more the poster at the front desk, just fragments of words… warning, testing, electrical surges, do not use… and emerged, blinking, into the sunshine of the day and the start of my family holiday.

And when I got back to work, some two weeks later…

Was there hell to pay about the lateness of the Green Folder?

Was my colleague spitting mad that I’d blown up her PC?

Was the IT guy standing over my desk, demanding an explanation?

Was there a bill from the Finance Department asking for compensation for the exploding PCs?

Not a bit of it.

Just friends and colleagues asking: “Did you have a good time?  Did you enjoy your holiday?”

And the friendly chatter and exchange of news, places, stories and photos before we drank more tea, and slowly got back to work.

Nothing else to show from the stress of that morning.  Nothing.  Nada.  Niente.

Except my own, vivid memory of that heart sinking moment when the screens went dead, and the lessons I hope I have learned.

Namely that:

• Stress and machines don’t mix

• Some office notices are meant to be read

• When the universe tells you to slow down a bit, don’t push your luck and ignore her warnings… or

• If you blow up one PC you shouldn’t try using another

• People don’t really care about deadlines, or machines, or broken objects: they care about you

• Holidays should always come before writing projects, whatever the colour of the folder

~~~

This story is from about 12 years ago… hopefully I’ve learned my lessons now.

Thanks to Robert Hruzek at the Middle Zone for the chance to look back and reflect on past errors and lessons learned.

For yes, this post is a contribution to the group writing project: What I Learned from Bloopers, Mistakes and Embarassing Moments

If you want to take part, there’s still time: the project closes this Sunday evening.

Photo Credit: Fixed by Don Fulano on Flickr

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The idea was to create some postcards from Scotland as part of the mailart project Janice Cartier has organised.  Plus there’s a sub-plot of breaking through some of my own limiting beliefs about art and creativity, including my own ability to produce something vaguely ‘artistic’.

I had an idea (from Janice) that I could play with words on the card:

words are art…as a writer your art would look like words….scribbled…typed..

So I started thinking last week about how I could do that: how I could start playing a bit with words when they were scribbled or differently typed to create a look on the page as well as a meaning in the mind.

I didn’t have a clear idea about how to set about this: my writing is basically either typed, fast, or a handwritten scrawl that no-one else but me would ever be able to read.  But I was willing to experiment – there is something about the way the project has been set up that makes it easy to experiment and play (more on how, why, and the end results in a later post.)

So I got myself a selection of pens, crayons and charcoal and sat down one afternoon last week in a cafe, and started to write.

Except this time it was different.

I wasn’t writing fast.  I was writing slow.

I wasn’t writing sentences, paragraphs, rapid thoughts and fast flowing ideas.  I was writing one word, over and over.

“Source“, was the word I was playing with, but to be honest, the choice of word didn’t matter.

It was something that was happening as I wrote, really wrote, slowly, by hand, that was changing things.  It was something to do with:

• Writing slowly, and paying attention to each and every letter

• Noticing, exploring, expanding and turning upside down the meaning of the word, as  I scattered the letters across the page

• Feeling the act of writing: my fingers getting inky, the smudges of charcoal, the pressure of crayon on the page

• Allowing the letters to stretch, scrawl, play: noticing that the swoops and swirls got bigger, wilder as I let myself fall further into the patterns of the letters, further away from the literal meaning

• Enjoying the flow state of experimenting for look, style, feel, without any sense of what was the ‘right way’ to do it

I had the feeling that I was learning something important about the act of writing.  Its playful dimension.  The look of the letters on the page.  The feel of the pen moving.  The crazy smudges of ink.

I was recognising how far I removed I am from that flow state, that pleasure, that creative experimental delight, when I just sit here and type, fast.

And sensing that learning, (re)learning how to write, might also mean leaving room for the possibility of writing in swoops and swirls.

Playfully.  Messily. Slow.

Does changing the medium change the way you feel about writing?  Have you ever found that to open up a new sense of what’s possible?

~~~

This post is a contribution to the theme of possibility and one of (possibly) many on lessons learned from the mailart project I’ve been involved in.

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1. When Should You Not Write? Guest Post by Alex Fayle

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

Talk about the language of possibility!

Then, now, still.

~~~

Happy 4th July to all my readers in the U.S.

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“There is no use trying,” said Alice; “one can’t believe impossible things.”

“I dare say you haven’t had much practice,” said the Queen.  “When I was your age, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I’ve believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast.” ~ Lewis Carroll

It’s a great quote, isn’t it?  One of my favourites from Alice, and there are so many to choose from.

It leads us into the theme I’m going to be running at Confident Writing for July and August: possibility.

Some of the issues I’ll be covering include:

• Writing with the language of possibility, opening things up for your readers (or your self)

• Writing that helps to make things happen: how words and language shape our reality

• Writing beyond our sense of what’s possible: trying out new styles, forms and media

• Achieving (im)possible writing goals

• And a group writing project to help stretch the boundaries of what’s possible in blogland…

If you’re up for some of that please do stay tuned

If you’ve an idea, comment or suggestion for an issue you’d like me to explore as part of the theme, please do let me know in the comment box below.

Photo Credit: A young boy dreams big dreams of what lies beyond by kretyen on Flickr

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I don’t know about you, but I’ve needed the breather, so thanks for the indulgence while I took some time out.

I wanted to highlight some of the ‘best of’ the last couple of months, including showcasing once again the guest posts which friends and fellow bloggers wrote for me for you.  Thanks to all of them for helping to keep this show on the road

I’ll be back tomorrow with news of the theme for July and August.

Blogging

Mirror, Signal, Manoeuvre: Changing Pace on Your Blog

The Blogging Habit

10 Things to Do When You Lose Your Blogging Voice

10 Things I Learned from Taking a Blogging Break

Writing

Peel Off the Labels to Give Yourself Space

Writing Art and Creativity: Postcards from Scotland

How Writing Grows in a Group

Poetry

Confidence, Poetry and Life: Interview with Sage Cohen

Still: A Poem About Writing, and Home

Guest Posts

When Should You Not Write? by Alex Fayle

The Untold Power of Audacious Writers by –Deb Boyken

Putting Confidence in Your Writing by Alex Fayle

4 Blogging Styles that Nurture Community by Brad Shorr

Writing 911! Tips To Breathe New Life Into Your Writing by Karen Swim

Stick-To-It-Iveness by Lillie Ammann

Standing Tall In Your Community by Robert Hruzek

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• Get in the way of writing when we mean to (plan to, ‘have to’.)
• Get in the way of enjoying it.
• Get in the way of writing what we really want to say.

Your comments and feedback on Alex Fayle’s guest post on ‘when should you not write?’ got me thinking.  Then Christine Kane’s ‘Get Creative’ newsletter arrived in my in-box and reminded me of the pleasure of doing things the imperfect way.

The freedom and liberation that comes from good enough.

[The article is reprinted in full below, both to give Christine credit and to let you see the kind of material she shares - it's great stuff.]

And this reminded me, in turn, of another poem I wrote in Sardinia.

It was written quickly, to get me out of a block: the kind of block that comes when you’re trying to find some clever words to capture the moment, to write something well so you can share your work with others, to come up, quickly, with something interesting to say.

So I went for a poem instead. ‘Just writing’… what I saw, and felt. Writing my way through the moment of disquiet.

Plus I don’t have any expectations of myself as a poet… and I’d really like to keep it that way.  Because writing what you’re feeling, right there, right then, without concern for how good it is…well, that’s a precious form of liberation.

Although I am going to share the poem, seeing as how you liked the last one (Still).

This one is called Too Hard, and it was inspired by this chair.

Too Hard

This seat looks near perfect.

Seat shaped.

Natural.

Waiting for her.

Look up, and there it is,

The frame of the tree,

The open page,

The blank screen waiting for the words,

The promise of the landscape,

The week drifting ahead.

But in all honesty

It’s all too flippin’ hard.

Her legs ache

She shifts uncomfortably

It doesn’t bend witih her

Just sits and waits, stubbornly.

The frame of the tree

Isn’t an invitation

But a tease, a sneer:

‘Look at you,

The landscape’s open

And you can’t write a thing’

The seat and the frame

It’s too damned

Hard

The only way to write

Is to ignore their

Demands

And

Go the other way.

You’ll never write a thing

On a chair that resists you

When you’re

Trying

Too hard.

The post and poem are the final contribution to the theme of breathing space (save a round up tomorrow.)  Thanks for breathing, in, out, with me, for the last couple of months. And don’t forget to enjoy your own liberation: the freedom of good enough writing.

~~~

Glorious Imperfection: The Forgotten Key to Success

by Christine Kane

“Anything worth doing is worth doing badly.”

- Julia Cameron

How many activities do you sit and think about doing? How many things would you love to try but stop yourself because you don’t know how to begin? Do you avoid adventures because of the pressure to do them well?

Yea?

Well, then, it might be time to explore one of my favorite success principles:

Glorious Imperfection!

Glorious Imperfection means that doing it badly is better than not doing it at all. As my friend and mentor Lisa Sasevich says, “Build the plane as you’re flying it!”

Lessons from Imperfect Camping

My husband and I love camping. Even more than we love camping, we love the idea of camping.

Two summers ago, some friends gave us all of their camping equipment. Tents, stoves, tools – the works. We talked and talked about how great it was to get all this free stuff.

Then – we didn’t go camping.

We live in one of those outdoors-y, rafting, climbing, “my extreme outdoor sport beat up your extreme outdoor sport” regions. We were intimidated!

So, one weekend, I made reservations at a campground. I called it the “Imperfect Camping Weekend.” My husband was on-board instantly.

Imperfect Camping meant that we could go to a campground, even though “real camping” only happens in the wilderness!

Imperfect Camping meant that we could leave our site and go get a lighter if we forgot one.

Imperfect Camping meant that we got along much better because we didn’t have to do it all perfectly.

Imperfect Camping meant that we actually went camping, rather than just talking about it.

In other words, it was more important to do it than to do it well.

Lots of things are like this.

The “Usta-Be’s”

One of the best times for Glorious Imperfection is when you’ve got a case of the “Usta-Be’s.”

“I used to be so much better at this.”

“I used to be so much thinner than I am now.”

“I used to write every single day, and it got so easy!”

And on and on we go – all the while never starting the very thing that might move us beyond our stuck-ness.

The “usta-be’s” are a trap!

Sometimes I travel so much that I get off schedule with my work-outs. So, I created Imperfect Work-Outs. This means that, upon my return, I only do 15 minutes on the elliptical. It means that I only do one set of reps with my weights. It means that the voices shout, “You usta-be so much better at this! You used to go 45 whole minutes on that elliptical!”

I continue my Imperfect Workouts while these voices shout – but at least I’m taking action.

Why Does it Work?

Because Glorious Imperfection is a way of setting intention. It lets your ego know that you would rather do the activity than wait until you can do it flawlessly.

When you begin a project and you lower the bar – or better yet, remove it altogether – then you’re free to create without any grade. Ironically, this allows for such freedom and joy that you often end up doing a great job. (Or at least having a great time.)

When you demand perfection from the start, then your attention isn’t on the activity itself. Your attention is drained in the perpetual “how’m I doing?” analysis.

For instance, in the camping example, if I had pushed us to “GO CAMPING,” then my standards for what camping is “supposed to look like” might have taken over.

Rather than enjoying camping – I might have been thinking, “We’re not doing so good. Look at those people at the campsite next to us! They’re so prepared! And I forgot to pack the lighter!”

I’d probably end up nit-picking my husband, which would make us both stressed. Then we’d be even more resistant to going camping again – which is something we both love to do, even though we’re not great at it!

An Imperfect List of Things You Can Do Imperfectly

- Imperfect Vacations

- Imperfect Writing

- Imperfect Blogging

- Imperfect Marketing

- Imperfect Dinner Parties

- Imperfect Meditation

- Imperfect Yoga

- Imperfect Hiking

- Imperfect Scrapbooking

- Imperfect Cooking

- Imperfect Bowling

(There are, of course, some things that might not be good for allowing imperfection. Brain surgery, piloting a commercial jet, and skydiving come to mind!)

Performer, songwriter, and creativity consultant Christine Kane publishes her ‘LiveCreative’ weekly ezine with more than 4,000 subscribers. If you want to be the artist of your life and create authentic and lasting success, you can sign up for a FRE*E subscription to LiveCreative at www.christinekane.com.

WANT TO SEE HUNDREDS MORE ARTICLES LIKE THIS ONE?
See Christine’s blog – Be Creative. Be Conscious. Be Courageous – at ChristineKane.com/blog.

Text

Newsletter

Post from: Confident Writing

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1. Still: A Poem About Writing, and Home

If you’re anything like me, you’ve probably experienced these moments often.

Like when every word that comes out of your brain feels like a burning hot coal searing its way from neurons to fingertips. Or how about when the idea you had gets dragged sideways, moving your story (or blog post or client work) in a direction that not only isn’t intended but actually damages the piece you’re building.

And then we have the biggest creativity killer: obligation. Any time I obligate myself into writing the output is pure and utter rubbish.

By rubbish, I don’t mean the type that’s four pages of verbal composting that gets sifted later to produce the finest most fertile half page of grade A writing. I’m talking about the bad writing that comes when we obligate ourselves.

The stuff that lacks any sort of spark and reads like a legal document gone over a thousand times to remove anything that might contain even a whiff of life.

The big lie that blocks writing

Almost every day I struggle to write my fiction. I can pump out four blog posts and other articles a day and yet sitting down and writing a single scene in my novel makes me squirm like a child in front of a plate of Brussel sprouts.

I rarely let myself not write because normally once I get started I slide into the flow, finishing every sprout on my plate – and I’m usually left wanting more.

There are days, however, when no matter what sort of coaching or cajoling I do, the words do not want to flow. And if I push myself I end up with something that I redo completely later.

And that moment comes whenever I tell myself that I have to write.

The words “have to” do not exist. There is no “have to” there is only “choose to” because everything in life, especially our writing, is a choice. Yes, if we don’t write that piece of copywriting we won’t get paid and we won’t eat, but the decision to write is still a choice.

The instant I tell myself I have to write, I’m lying and my muse sees right through it and says “No way, Jose! I don’t put up with liars!”

The simple sentence that unblocks writing

Once that lie comes out of my mouth, productive writing becomes impossible so I take a break. It might be for an hour, a day or a week. It depends on how much I’ve irritated my muse.

If I’m still in a have-to mode then I feel guilty because I’m not writing and I’m wasting time, talent and, basically, my whole life. Add in the pressure of a deadline or client expectations and the guilt blossoms into a muse-eating plant more voracious then the plant from The Little Shop of Horrors.

To break out of the grip of this all-consuming guilt, I tell myself something really simple:

“It’s okay, I’ll write later.”

I turn the “have to” into a “choose to” as in I choose to write later rather than right now. I take away the pressure and reclaim the power over my own writing.

When it comes to paid work making the choice to write later often means after lunch or after checking emails and Twittering a bit. My fiction muse isn’t so forgiving, however, and usually demands the whole day off before agreeing to get back to work.

Conversation points

Because every writer is different, we all have our little things that block or motivate us. Help all of us understand ourselves a bit better by giChokingving a think to the following questions and add your thoughts to the comment section:

* Do the words “have to” motivate or demotivate you?
* What do you do when faced with a muse on strike?
* What words do you use to get yourself moving again?

******

Alex Fayle, of Someday Syndrome, is a writer who has learned that his writing rocks and is working at letting enough people know until the right person offers to publish his books.

He also uses his amazing skill of uncovering hidden patterns to help people break the procrastination obstacle so they can finally find freedom and start living the life they desire.

Alex’s previous guest posts here have been on Allowing Ourselves to Be Successful and Putting Confidence In Your Writing

Photo Credit:  Choking by TheAlieness GiselaGiardino²³ ’s photostream

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Related posts:

1. Putting Confidence in Your Writing: Guest Post by Alex Fayle
2. Writing 911! 5 Tips to Breathe New Life into Your Writing: Guest Post by Karen Swim
3. A Confident Writer Knows When to Breathe: Guest Post by Iain Broome

Well, you did ask for photos

~~~

It’s drawing to the end of this breathing space theme.  I think it’s one that’s struck a chord – maybe just because it’s something we all need to do from time to time.  Or there’s something in the air just now.

Anyway, since I started this theme, way back in late April, I’ve been gathering up links to the way other people describe their breathing places.

• The places you go to take some time out, to breathe more easily, to refresh your spirit:

• The space you carve for your writing to flourish and the words to flow.

• The space you create in your mind to let new ideas and possibilities emerge.

Here are ten of the most intriguing places I read about:

The Places You Go

Ulla Hennig takes some time out to sit under the blossom: Breathing Space

You raise your head, and all you can see is – blossoms. You are sitting there, and you can smell them, watch them tenderly swaying in the breeze. You take a deep breath, and you can smell the scent.

–Deb reminds us why we need to switch off the machine: Four Reasons to Switch Off Your Computer at Punctuality Rules

Did you know, for example, that there’s this thing called the sun? And fresh air? You’d be surprised how refreshing it can be to spend time outdoors.

Bo Mackison at Seeded Earth shares a favourite bench – a place to Take it Easy

I love to sit here, settle in a bit, and day-dream. Everyone needs a good place to let their dreams wander and slowly take form. And this is as good a place as I’ve found. There’s a bit of magic in the bench under the shade tree, with the stone path curving here and there.

Amy Palko shares the experience of finding waves of kindness at the shore.  This is a beautiful piece of writing that she shared at the Calm Space – do check it out.

Standing there, on the edge of the water, the rhythmic rock and ripple of salt sea lulls me to a state I have not visited for oh so long a time.  The tension seeps from my bones, my frame relaxes, my vision refocuses, my mind retracts.

Karen Swim steps outside into the darkness of the night, and shares the relief we can feel, even for a moment, when we take the time to step away from our fears and breathe.  The Breath of Life

I stood in the air and an old song from church played in my head, “breathe on me.” I heard the gentle voices of the choir in my head and closed my eyes transporting my heart to the source of the song. Breathe on me. Transitions, questions, decisions. Breathe on me. Fear, uncertainty, excitement. Breathe on me.

The Space to Write

Jon Swanson at Levite Chronicles shares some ways to write and not write in 8 Ways to Write This Particular Afternoon

1. Sometimes it is okay to not write… 7. Sometimes your heart needs space to catch up with your life. Pay attention. 8. Sometimes you just need to start the tea.

Emma Newman at Post-Apocalyptic Publishing writes a letter to her future self with 10 Writing Lessons Learned

I gradually got enough distance from the book to be able to make dramatic edits, and tough decisions, but ultimately, it would have been impossible for me to get it into the shape it is now without the help of others. This has mostly been family and friends admittedly, but all of them said such helpful things that helped me realise what was wrong with it.

The Space to Create

Karen Wallace, editor of the Calm Space, reminds us of the need to create space to make room for new things: A Time for Space at Joyful Jubilant Learning

Whether we need to clean out the fridge, our wardrobe or the entire house; whether we need to reassess relationships to sort the good from the not-so-good; whether we need to turn down the volume a little and retreat; or whether we need to open space in our diaries, cull items from our to-do lists, ditch some obligations or say ‘no’ a little more often: creating space is about making room for living our best life.

Rosa Say encourages us to paint outside the lines – literally! Color Outside Your Lines at Talking Story

2009 is teaching us to be brave. We are finding we need to reinvent, and break out of any little boxes we may have put ourselves in.

Janis Cartier invites us into the new and exciting space of uncertainty: The Principles of Uncertainty

Passion blooms. In your work, in your thrill of trying something different, or even some something from an unexpected direction. But how can it bloom if you never pick up that stick and play with it a bit?

After all if those barrista’s can do it so can we. We’re just using tiny little postcards…little bits of space to breathe upon…

Yep. Uncertainty… can you feel how lovely it can be? Roll in it, let it tickle you all it wants…it can be your friend.

How have you been gifting yourself the space to breathe this summer?

Photo Credits:

Just One No. 5 Brush by Rosa Say on Flickr, part of her Watercolor Project

Skyewards by Joanna Young on Flickr.

The photo was taken from near North Strome, looking out over Loch Reraig to the Isle of Skye.

You’ll find more photos from the north west highland holiday on my Flickr page (and if you’re on Flickr, please do add me as a contact.)

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1. Time for Some Breathing Space

Not back two minutes, spent all that time trying to get back into things, ditch bad blogging habits, get my blogging voice back then yep, I’m off again.

I’m headed north and west (two of my favourite words ) for a week’s holiday.  If I’m good, I might even leave my laptop behind too…

I’ll take pictures when I’m away, and share some when I’m back.  Meantime, be good, have fun, and I’ll see you when I’m back.

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In particular, I asked you to think about this question:

Could you tell me what one thing you do, or have done differently as a result of reading the Confident Writing blog?

I’ve finally got round to compiling your answers, and, in the interests of having the courage and confidence to toot, sweetly, wanted to share the results.

Here’s what you said:

I’d never before considered that writing could be confident or not. Your slogan “Because our words count” makes me think about the importance of writing and words. (Lillie Ammann)

As a newbie to the blogosphere I found lots of clear and precise tips of how to approach writing for the internet on your website, which was an invaluable tool on the journey to creating a blog. (Janette Currie)

Reading the Confident Writing blog was my key motivation to start my own blog, and the lessons here have indeed given me the confidence to write a blog that, although new, is already showing signs of becoming a success! (Matt Hayward)

Since I have been reading your blog I have gained Courage and Confidence: courage to write and confidence in growing writing abilities. (Ulla Hennig)

The  best thing is you surely have a big heart and always listened to your readers’ thoughts…(Wilson)

What I have learnt is that Confidence can be achieved and Clarity as well as Listening skills are a must. (Patricia)

The biggest impact for me has been the way reading your words has changed my perspective and approach to writing. I have grown in my appreciation and application of the craft. I began reading writing books as a result of your recommendations and applying the learning. I stretched my writing muscles as you gently encouraged me through your words to play with style, rhythm, words, timing, headlines and more. Finally, you have had a tremendous impact on my view of community. (Karen Swim)

One thing I’ve learned from coming here so regularly is that my words do indeed count, and it’s important to choose them wisely – then send ‘em on their way into the world! Confidence is what you’re all about, and you’ve inspired me in many ways, drawing out the best there is within me. (Robert Hruzek)

The thing I now do differently is think about the community that every blog post speaks to: Who are the people with an interest in the subject? What are their priorities? What joins us all together around this topic? and so on.  My posts have become much more relaxed, accessible and enjoyable to write as a result! (Paul)

Besides being the launch pad for our friendship, your blog has inspired me to take my writing to a higher level, to experiment, to put more of myself in my work. Not only that, I’ve gotten to know many other bloggers whom I’ve come to treasure through conversations on these pages. (Brad Shorr)

Your insights at the Confident Writing blog remind me that writing is more robust than I was taught as a journalist. You’ve helped me see writing isn’t just a product, but rather a convergence of my own history and personality with the interactions of an audience. (Lori – Space Age Sage)

Confident Writing is a place with a unique mixture of academic writing tips to make bloggers stand out from the crowd and an informal community atmosphere to learn, contribute, and grow as a blogger. (Damien Riley)

Whilst the writing tips and guidance are invaluable, the one thing I get most from Joanna and Confident Writing is a shining example to follow! Every visit you inspire me with your ability to build community and make everyone feel so warm and welcome. (Karen)

Discovering Confident Writing has done just that…brought more confidence and courage to my writing. (Kathleen)

Our recent connection through Confident Writing and Twitter has helped to change the way I view my writing. Through you I have begun to access a new community which has raised my motivation and self-belief. (Jan Scott)

Confident Writing has taught me that writing isn’t just a job, nor is it a hobby, nor is it a skill to be used as and when I need it. Rather, it’s an intrinsic part of me, and something that I really shouldn’t try to deny. (Naoko)

Confident Writing shares wonderful, helpful content. Also in friendly fashion, your blog has introduced to me, your fellow bloggers who offer a treasure trove of great content, too. The community you’ve created exudes warmth which is impressive by itself.  The biggest personal gain that Confident Writing has given me is confidence. It’s a huge deal for me that I now click the publish buttons, the send buttons, and the submit buttons with much less hesitation than I once had.  (Shari Smothers)

In reading this blog I have learned to take more risks as a writer, and bring some “dragon fire” to my writing. Confident Writing sizzles and it will help your writing to sizzle, too. (Robyn McMaster)

You are about writing with confidence. But you don’t stop with, “Be confident.” Your insight in breaking confidence into parts which then become monthly themes teaches us 1) how to analyze, 2) how to break desirable attributes into actionable pieces, and 3) how to talk together about those actions. (Jon)

I believe CW is a wonderful resource for new bloggers like me and a great place to be inspired and to learn that blogging can be a rewarding experience. (Nithya)

Confident Writing has taught me to be bold with my creative voice, to try out new styles of writing and is full of common-sense, practical and creative advice. Thank you for helping to nurture my writing technique which had been neglected for so long! (Jasmin aka Wonderwebby)

It’s been extremely useful to see how you relate to your readers and build/communicate with your community. And that’s what it feels like, here. Your comments sections are more than just comments sections. They’re places to interact, like a civilised and useful forum! It’s tricky to achieve that, I reckon. And it’s part of what brings people back for more. (Iain Broome)

I think the one thing that’s really different is my approach to the Universe. Whether we realize or not, we’re all cosmic antennas.  Your site has helped me realize that it’s ok to listen in to the airwaves and report back what I pick up. (Jamie Grove)

As you were my confident writing coach, it is difficult to separate reading your blog from the very kind suggestions and nudges you continue to send my way.

So choosing just the one thing, I would say that…

BJ (before Joanna) I stuttered, sputtered and hid.

AJ (after Joanna) I skip, I leap, I fly!

And sometimes I fall flat. But not flat back. (The one and only Cat Wentworth)

I’ve learned so much from your blog and it has helped me in many ways with my writing. The one thing that comes to mind at the moment is numbered lists. You’ve mentioned this more than once and it really does make sense. Everytime I use them I think of you and smile (Debbie Yost)

~~~

What can I say? So much precious feedback here.

Words that I can learn from, and build into the way I develop this blog.

Perspectives and reflections that will inform the teaching and coaching I do in the future.

Words that I will keep, savour, and treasure.

Thank you.

Joanna

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