Yesterday I received a copy of a newly published book which includes a short story of mine.
“This little world” is an anthology of short stories created in writing workshops set up by The Dorset Writers Network last winter. The aim was to encourage writing about the landscape and places of this beautiful area in which we live.
It was strange and pleasing seeing my own writing in print. This time last year I was experimenting with prints of a different kind, making colographs with artist printer Robin Moorcroft.
I loved the process of making colographs, building up the plate with different textures, cutting away, glueing, then inking up, wiping down, inking again. And then the applying pressure through the rollers of the press and impressing the design on to paper to make the print.
By contrast, my story in this printed book, seems strangely lacking in process. I wrote the story months ago; I suppose I spent some time editing it, but I can’t remember and it wasn’t a long process. Then I emailed it to the address on the workshop handout. And that was it, other than receiving an email telling me it had been accepted some months later.
And now I hold the printed book, and am enjoying reading the stories, but feeling strangely detached. I am left thinking that it is not the final print which is most important, but the hands on process of handling the raw materials, cutting, shaping, editing, rewriting which brings a lot of the satisfaction.
But then the making process is all mine, whereas the product (at least in the case of my story ) is now public. I am left wondering what impression it will leave on others!