Inspiration, stuff and nonsense - #7

Monday, September 21, 2009 | |


"HIT SOMEBODY!"

The screams from the bleachers were as clear as day.

"BOOORRRRRIIIIIINNNNNG!"

They were right, we'd been doing a brilliant job of holding our opponents back, but when it comes to a contact sport like roller derby, these spectators weren't here to see walls of skaters; they were here to see blockers and jammers hit the floor.

"En-ter-tain us!
"EN-TER-TAIN US!"
"EN-TER-TAIN US!"

Their relentless chants drummed their way in so far that I nearly shouted back at them, "Give me a fucking second!"

Instead, I focussed. Lined her up. Averted my gaze as to not give my intentions away. And bam! Clocked that bitch in the chest.

The crowd cheered.

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Sometimes we all need a little bit of encouragement, but how effective this encouragement is depends on what an individual responds best to. When it comes to encouraging me, it's simple.

Threaten me.

I'm serious! Threaten me with the idea that I'm rescinding on obligation. Threaten me with the feeling that I might not be achieving my potential. Threaten me with the fear of disappointment. Whether it's out on the track at roller derby or behind the safety of a computer screen, I'll respond in the same way; with action.

When it's come to my writing, I've been suffering of late. It's not one of these awkward I'll-Never-Amount-To-Anything scenarios, nor is it a Woe-Is-Me writer's block, I just haven't felt like I have anything interesting to bring to the table at present. It's been more than a month since I last posted anything, and my friends are starting to notice. As I entered my second month as a post-less wonder last week, the threats began.

One friend said:
"You know I always visit your blog right? I think, 'Ooh I wonder if Hannah's posted?' Then I go there and see nothing new."

Another offered:
"You've been a bit quiet! I know you can perform better than this. Where's your new shit?"

Then a third yelled:
"WRITE SOMETHING, OR I WILL SMASH YOU."

So here I am, sick from work and burrowed up in bed. I am flanked by lemon water, crackers and some delightful afternoon sun - and I'm starting something. As it has been with my last few stories, this new one focusses on the mind, on madness, and on something that makes a person in question peculiar.

I guess when the writer requires threats in order to produce it, this theme is not hard to understand.