I
don’t need to tell you that
the one question writers are
asked repeatedly is: Where
do you get your ideas? It’s not
just an issue for fi ction writers;
those who write articles also
need a constant stream of
subjects to explore.
So let me turn it back on
you: where could you fi nd your
ideas? As a newly professional
writer, you don’t want to
be twiddling your pencil
unproductively for too long.
There are the old favourites,
such as overheard snippets
of conversation, or maybe
you could use the excellent
suggestions in Writers’ Forum?
Glancing at the last issue I can
spot not only Paula Williams’
brilliant Idea Store, but also the
Kickstarters and any number
of articles and columns to
spark inspiration: an exercise
on writing in the third person,
themed competitions... I could
go on, but I’ll run out of space.
Instead I want to highlight
the more general inspiration
and all-round help that comes
from getting back to nature.
I know it’s an eff ort
venturing out when spring
hasn’t quite arrived and you’re
feeling pretty comfortable
just where you are. Are you,
though, really? Or are you
hunched over your laptop,
rubbing your eyes and
drinking endless cups of
coff ee? Is that any way to keep
yourself healthy and nurture
creative urges? Nope, won’t
do. Writers need exercise and
fresh air to counter all that
slumping and concentrating.
Most of us know that being
outside releases endorphins
and that these are Very Good
Things, which increase our
sense of wellbeing. A walk
along the canal, volleyball on
the beach, a simple picnic – all
great ways to take advantage
of both the fresh air and the
feel-good hormones. But one
writer and educator, Matt Gaw,
takes it a step further in his
Wild Writing Workshops, held
on a Suff olk nature reserve.
This is what he has to say
about the inspirational element
of being out in nature.
‘I think the inspiration
comes from being somewhere
you can see and feel the
interconnections between the
human and non-human world.
‘For me, being “wild” is
not necessarily about being
somewhere untouched by
humans. In fact, such a thing
is probably impossible in the
UK. As soon as the light hits the
back of the eye the landscape
becomes cultural.
‘I think the inspiration of
wildness comes through the
narratives the land holds,
whether it is the natural history
of a particular species and
habitat, the old time of geology
and starlight, the stories of
folklore or a human history of
movements, use and abuse.’
In the tradition of nature
writing, the workshops focus
on creative non-fi ction as either
an end in itself or a starting
point for other writing. Matt
is happy when his would-be
writers end up ‘desperate toexplore the spaces around
where they live’. His own book
The Pull of the River is a great
example of nature’s infl uence
at work. Or think Laurie Lee’s
Cider with Rosie.
Luckily, you don’t need
to walk the Pennine Way,
including the totally-off -the-
beaten-track bits, in order to
benefi t. Consider instead those
areas where industry has been
prominent and then declined,
allowing greenery to reclaim
old stone steps and a mossy
water wheel, and you’ll see the
truth in Matt’s words.
Similarly, when you come
across a cairn on a hillside or a
crude shelter, how can you not
start creating possible scenarios
around what happened there
and why? Or be inspired to
research the facts?
Not far from me in Yorkshire
is the Stanza Stones Trail
of poems written by Simon
Armitage and carved into
rocks. The trail runs through
rough-hewn countryside
bearing ‘the deep scars of
industrial exploitation, as
well as those less obvious: the
signs left by a hundred local
generations are carved into the
region’s abounding rocks’. (For
more information on the trail,see http://www.simonarmitage.com/
stanza-stones.)
At its most basic, nature
off ers a whole host of subjects
to write about and a solid
or symbolic background
for stories (the heat in The
Go-Between, for example).
Experience the elements of
nature fi rst-hand: the weather;
the colours and textures
of the landscape; the eff ect
the place has had on people
through centuries; the sounds
of animals brushing through
heather or twigs crackling
underfoot. Then incorporate
them into your work.
So, to sum up the many
benefi ts of being outside in
nature: mood and health
enhancement; situations,
sounds and sensations you
don’t get inside; a sense of
history and connection with
the natural world...
I’ll mention just one more
thing. How many of us fi nd
that our most productive
period ideas-wise is the
blank space between sleep
and wakefulness? Or while
daydreaming? The mind
becomes a vacuum – and we
all know how nature abhors
one of those.
So, if you go down to the
woods today – or down to the
river or up on the moors – and
clear your head of everyday
worries, more creative ideas
will fi ll the space. Like magic.
There are many ‘writing
from nature’ prompts online- http://www.writingforward.com
off ers a dozen. Take a look at
these if you feel they’ll help,
then head out, if you’re able,
and see how the natural world
aff ects you and your work.
Of course, an urban
environment is absolutely
right for some writing. But
for now, for its many benefi ts
and inspirations, let’s hear it
for the Great Outdoors.
Freelance Kath Kilburn champions the inspirational GREAT OUTDOORS
THE BUSINESS
WRITER
The Stanza Stones Trail runs
through rough-hewn countryside