This Word Camel Waters Her Droughts
By Sally Hewitt
As a “mature” woman I still find myself stumbling through life like a camel wearing stilettoes in the desert. As a writer I’ve learned to put life’s blisters, sink holes, and sandstorms to good use. I’ve been doing it for years, have earned from it.
One of my earliest blisters related to money - lack of it obviously. I was living in the UK then, being threatened with seven days imprisonment for overdue non-payment of council tax. I was a young, single mum of four children, the oldest was 10. I owed £27.16p. I had £0.68p in my bank account.
The thought of a whole week of undisturbed sleep and bed space plus three meals a day that I hadn’t had to buy, prepare and wash up, appealed, as did the opportunities for uninterrupted adult conversations and free training classes. A bonus would be - providing I made it out alive - a dramatic life experience to write about.
I weighed the pros and cons.
Two cons won.
Leaving my kids home alone for that amount of time would be messy. They’d empty the food cupboards, forget to brush their teeth, blah blah blah.
If approached for a lesbian fling in jail I’d likely be very defensive; I may not make it out alive.
Biting the sensible bullet, I borrowed money to settle the overdue bill. I also sent off a reader’s letter about receiving it. It earned me £30.
Next came a sink hole.
I’d been wallowing in a specialist educational field for three years. While I absolutely loved the work and the pay was great, the travel was exhausting and time consuming. I was still a single mum, my eldest now being 16. Older kids bring different challenges. Think love bites, drugs, fighting. I was losing my maternal touch.
Again, I bit the practical print and resigned to become a self-employed writer to deliver in book form what I’d been teaching peripatetically.
During the next two years I got to better grips and understanding of my children’s behaviours whilst also writing and achieving publication of two specialist educational books. Alongside, I continued to earn from funny anecdotes about motherhood, woman hood, travel, anything I could turn to bring in writing money. Neither of my books became best sellers, overnight or otherwise buttwenty years later one continues to bring money in.
Then I landed a job as a newspaper correspondent. This forced me to socialize again. I’m not a big socializer.
Writing is a solitary, selfish business, the best reason in the world to ignore everybody and everything else on the planet. Example: when my vegetable garden caught on fire, as it was still smouldering, I wrote about that and earned £40.
Then there are sandstorms, the big haboobs, the stinging, whirling dust devils that blind me to seeing, writing, and submitting for eons of time.
A while ago I escaped what I had to accept as an unhealthy, toxic relationship. Furtively, even as tumbleweeds had been scratching through, I ‘d been keeping notes in my phone journal. My later reading of them reminded me of why I left. More importantly how I always just write – through bad as well as good times.
Yesterday, I rehashed one of my phone notes to post on Quora. It’s had 940 views, nine upvotes and one share. I may not make money from that post but knowing so many have read it and want others to read it, motivates me. In time, I’ll likely use guts of it to produce a paid article.
But for now, I’m going to take my stilettoes off and find a comfy seat.
Because this article, on the serious matter of using all things bad as inspiration for writing, has made me realize my hooves might need re-painting before I stumble off again. I’m bound to stumble. I’m currently in Morocco. No matter which way I turn I see another desert.
Sally Hewitt was born in the black, peaty Fenlands of Norfolk, UK. her first love was and still is, potatoes. Her love of writing sprouted eleven years later; her poem earned best in class. She began writing during motherhood, earned from funny anecdotes, articles, fillers. Alongside she found reliably paid work. After lucrative years of wallowing in an educational field, she became a self-employed writer, achieved publication of two specialist educational books, next worked as a regional newspaper correspondent. She has since surrendered all UK stabilities, lived a nomadic lifestyle, landed in Morocco, resumed writing. When earnings allow, she buy potatoes.