Welcome to my January 2025 newsletter.
Is it too late to say Happy New Year? How is your 2025 going so far?
I’ve just delivered the fourth webinar in a series of six about self-publishing on behalf of Writing Magazine and Writers Online. The series gives prospective authors an insight into the self-publishing process, what it enables authors to do, and some things to think about that perhaps they might not have considered.
The morning after the first webinar, which had over 250 people registered, I bumped into a friend who works at the local bookshop.
“How did last night’s webinar go?”
“Okay, I think. They asked lots of questions.”
She shivered and stamped her feet on the pavement. “So where are you off to on the gloriously crisp, sunny day in the snow? Climbing the hills?”
“Nah. Just off to the Egg Man,” I replied.
She giggled. “Zooming to the World last night and now you’re off to the Egg Man. You know how to rock and roll!”
We parted, and I continued walking into town.
The Egg Man operates from the back of his white van, parked in the corner of the car park, outside the organic produce shop. He seemed extra chatty this morning.
“See that chap there?” He nodded to the bloke behind me, as he picked up half a dozen jumbo eggs and checked them for cracks. “He used to work at Jewsons, but got laid off before Christmas. Then, come 2nd January, he’s offered another job at another building merchant. Guess what?” he continues.
I shrug. I’m not really sure what to guess.
“Job is office-based. He loves working in a warm office now. Lucky beggar doesn’t have to work outside in all this.” The Egg Man skimmed his foot across the icy tarmac.
I pause, wondering what to say. Clearly, I’m expected to say something deep and meaningful.
“Some things in life are just meant to happen, aren’t they?” I offer.
He checks the second half dozen jumbo egg box, then slips it straight into my rucksack.
“I think you’re right. That’s £3.40 then, please, mate.”
Do you capture everyday exchanges like this? What is quite a mundane daily transaction can be a fascinating interaction when written up like this. It works because it is real life. It’s social history. And it doesn’t matter what sort of writing you do, this is all brilliant fodder for our work.
I often use scenes like this in my articles, especially travel pieces. Stories are a fantastic way to draw the reader into our piece, even if you write non-fiction. (And they help add a touch of realism to fiction writing, too.)
We all know how difficult it can be to start a piece sometimes. When I find myself stuck like this, I go looking for an observational story piece like my Egg Man anecdote. One of these always gets my creative juices flowing, and when I drop it into place and edit it for the piece I’m working on, it helps me focus. Then, I’m away.
Recording these observational pieces is an important part of my writing business. I never know when I may need one, whether it’s an article, story, non-fiction book, or even a novel. The system I have in place is as follows:
I journal most days, so record the event there first.
From there, I’ll type up the observation into a digital journal I call my Observational Journal. I find using a journalling app useful because I like recording the dates these events happened, and a journalling app makes it easy to flick back-and-forth through the dates.
I give each observation a brief title (Egg Man), and then tag it with a location (always useful, but particularly so when writing travel pieces).
Whenever I’m looking for a story, I simply search my Observational Journal. Again, it’s another reason for using a digital journal because the search function is brilliant, something that is practically impossible with my handwritten journal where all these are first recorded.
Observational journalling is a skill worth learning. Ultimately, as writers, it’s core to our writing business. Without making observations, we have little to draw upon.
If you’ve never done it before, take yourself off somewhere other people go. It could be a coffee shop, a pub, the library, a bookshop, the supermarket, your place of work, or the park.
Sit down, take out your notebook and pen, and observe. Really look. Focus on one or two people. What are they doing? Use your other senses. Listen to what they’re saying. (Remember, as writers, we can claim this as research. We’re not being rude.) Jot down any smells, tastes, and how you feel.
When you start looking, these scenes are everywhere around us.
Earlier this month, I read Finding Joy in the Everyday published last year by a friend, Susanna Lewis, who’s written about the first year following her mother’s passing. While it explores the different ways grief affects people, she’s interspersed it lots of observational journalling. Not only does it emphasise those emotions you experience when you lose someone and struggle to understand how the rest of the world can just keep turning, but there are some wonderful stories here, too. (And they reiterate my point that these seemingly mundane moments in daily life can be fascinating.)
So if you haven’t started one yet, consider setting up an observational journal. It could be one of the foundations of your writing business.
South Warwickshire Literary Festival Creative Writing Competition
I mentioned how these observational pieces can be perfect for memoirs and travel writing. They use a technique known as creative non-fiction, where we write about true events in a story-like way. Well, if the idea appeals, you may be interested to know that I’m judging the creative non-fiction category of this year’s South Warwickshire Literary Festival competitions.
Entry is £3.90, first prize is £75, with £25 for a commended place.
If creative non-fiction isn’t your thing, there are also poetry, fiction, and flash-fiction categories, too. For more details visit: https://www.southwarwickshireliteraryfestival.com/competition-2025
Until next month, keeeeeeeeeep writing!
Best wishes,
Simon
If he's the Egg Man, are you the Walrus?