CONTENT WARNING: This story contains instances of strong language.
One of the core tenets of my life is self-expression. For me, creative writing is the most authentic and honest form of self-expression; whether on a page or spoken aloud, as poetry or fantasy prose, my words are an insight into the deepest recesses of my being. I realise that could easily come across as pretentious, like some cheap Byronic knockoff, but I promise that it’s true.
For most of my life, I sidelined my passion for writing, opting to study and pursue what I felt I should do, rather than what I really wanted to do or what made me happy. This approach collapsed when I began transitioning a few years ago: such an upheaval of the self inevitably calls everything in life into question, and whilst figuring out my place in the world as a trans woman, I realised how much I enjoyed writing, and had run out of excuses to ignore it. This rather swiftly led me to applying to study BA (Hons) Creative Writing at AUB, having been impressed by the course at first glance.
Through this course, I have found immense creative freedom to identify my inspirations and my process. For example, I acknowledged my admiration for Neil Gaiman’s work, especially The Sandman, and his explorations of human nature within a surreal fantasy story. I realised how intensely I wanted to cultivate my own take on that by telling stories and creating poetry that reflected my experiences as a trans woman, and hopefully I could create stories for other trans people that I wish I’d had growing up.
Some aspects of my writing require elements of planning, especially fantasy world building. However, for the most part I am what’s called a pantser: in short, I let inspiration happen as and when. I cannot force myself to write, because I know from experience that this leads me to creating work that feels dishonest. When the inspiration comes naturally, often at odd times such as 03.00, I can feel pride in even the rawest work I create and never touch again.
A case in point is the extract below, which I’ve realised is a perfect example of me using writing as self-expression, and which was a cocky reaction to feeling stifled by a writing brief:
The confidence I have gained from immersing in my work on this course has helped in pursuing writing-affiliated projects outside uni, and planning for my future ambitions of being an author. In the case of the latter, I hope to hybridise prose and poetry in folkloric fantasy fiction, using historical and modern settings, and telling stories that centre on queer experiences using trans protagonists and my own firsthand experiences. In the case of the former, I took part in a Slam Poetry competition at the Lighthouse Theatre’s Poole Pride event – my first ever slam event – and I won. I performed two poems, both centring on the theme of “come as you are” in terms of gender and sexuality.
My second poem – the one which gave me my victory – was another example of pantsing: I wrote it on a bus ride from Highcliffe to Poole and memorised it as I wrote it, applying minimal editing and instead trusting that a poem composed of my rawest thoughts would work… hence why it looks more prosaic on the page:
This is not to say that I eschew the processes of editing and utilising peer feedback. These have been essential in working on projects, polishing pieces that may have glaring issues. For example, a poem I write, in its roughest form, may rely solely on the words I write, which works fine for spoken word poetry. But the process of editing might reveal to me ways of arranging the words on a page in ways that enhance my intentions and hook the reader’s attention for longer.
However, I have surprised myself with how impactful my writing can be when I let my rawest thoughts and emotions flow at their own whim, let my writing be a pure reflection of my humanity in all its complexities, even and especially in a fantasy setting. Once that is set up, the editing process merely hones that reflection into a form that leaves readers addicted and craving more. Once that happens, my work is done, and I am happy.
