The creative break that wasn't
On discovering that stories have a habit of finding their way out anyway
I had planned to take a complete break while my manuscript was away for an editorial assessment.
No writing. No tinkering. No “just one little look.”
A proper rest.
Which lasted for approximately three days.
To misquote Jane Austen: a writer in possession of an empty notebook must be in want of something creative to do.
What followed was not another novel (thank goodness) but a series of stories for my grandchildren.
They live in Singapore and Devon, which means I miss a great deal of ordinary life with them. One of the things we do have is Yoto. If you haven’t come across it, it’s a little audio player for children. You can make your own cards, record stories, and send them off into the world.
So I wrote a set of adventures starring Teddy the Detective Dog.
Teddy, for those unfamiliar with him, is a Tibetan Terrier with a white and golden shaggy coat, questionable listening skills, and a level of curiosity that suggests he may once have worked for MI5.
Each grandchild appears in the stories. Teddy solves mysteries. There are clues. There are misunderstandings. There is usually mud.
Then things got out of hand.
Because once I’d recorded the stories, I decided they needed illustrations.
This turned out to be much harder than writing them.
I spent more hours than I care to admit trying to persuade AI to create watercolour pictures that resembled my grandchildren rather than the sort of rosy-cheeked Victorian children who appear to have spent their entire lives standing quietly beside a pony.
My grandchildren, for the record, have many excellent qualities. Standing quietly is not generally among them.
Eventually, I got there.
The result is a colour storybook to go with the audio adventures. The children can listen to the stories and follow along with the pictures. And because Teddy is a real dog they know and love, he’s the true star of the show.
It wasn’t the creative break I’d planned.
But perhaps that’s the thing about creativity. Sometimes it doesn’t want a holiday. Sometimes it just changes shape for a while.
And spending a few weeks making stories about a scruffy detective dog was a lovely way to wait for my manuscript to come home with feedback.
My Novel Year
I’m a novelist and somatic life coach, working with writers, creatives, and anyone wanting to bring more creativity into their lives.
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