Hey, look at this cool shit I found.
A tiny little skull-shaped bit of chalk that reminds me of one of those Studio Ghibli clicky-clacky forest spirits. A little piece of wood worn bone-smooth by the sea. And another chalky hag stone that looks like a pelvis.
I took my dog to the beach the other day and we roamed and bounded about the rock pools for a gleeful hour or so, poking at gloopy creatures clinging to the stones, picking up weird-looking detritus, and trying not to slip over (no more injuries this year, please).
This counts as writing, by the way.
Because although my current WIP is resting its ink for a while, the story is always still rattling around my head.
It’s a historical drama about smuggling on the south coast of England in the Georgian period — what started as an idle local history research project and somehow mutated into a decade-long obsession with the stranger-than-fiction smuggling tales from my hometown. And,after an intense year of collating all my notes into a first draft, I’ve been letting it sit and percolate for a bit while I prep for the redraft.
But being by the sea immediately whooshed me right back into that fictional world — set right here on these beaches, a hundred-or-so years ago. No doubt people mooched about the rock pools picking up cool shit then, too. They would have experienced that same seaweed smell and sticky salt air. And I know from the many paintings and historical photos of this particular stretch of cliffs exactly what the landscape would have looked like back in the late 1800s.
This absolutely counts as writing, right? Pure, unadulterated enrichment.
I tucked my little treasures into my pocket and daydreamed all the way home. Reminding myself of why I fell in love with this story and how much I want to keep working on it. Reminding myself that even though my draft might need a moment or two of downtime before I’m ready to tackle it objectively, it’s still there. And my creative mind is happily ticking over while we wait — much inspired by random moments like this that bring the whole thing to life.
In fact, I’ve been building up a collection of scavenged objects around this story — wherever I go, I seem to come across something special that adds to the hoard…
Like this 1830s print depicting the salvage of a wrecked ship that I found in a local antique shop for a few quid.
It’s been staring at me from behind my desk the past few weeks, begging me to find it a frame. (We’d also have to find it a spare wall, too, but one step at a time, eh?)
Not just that, but it’s begging me to write about it, because there happens to be a scene just like this in my WIP. Who’d’ve guessed some 19th century artist already knew that and illustrated it just for me? Huh.
And then there’s this battered ol’ find of the century, which I stumbled across in another second hand shop the other day.
I wasn’t even looking for anything in particular — just a random browse of the books section — but my smuggling spidey senses started tingling the moment I noticed the cover.
A cover which… had entirely detached itself from the rest of the book.
A short snoop later, however, I managed to unearth the body of the thing under some 1980s car maintenance manuals, and carefully put Doyle’s birds-eye views back together, hoping to find some sort of indication that it was from the relevant era.
But there was no info at all about the publishing year, or any other clue besides some strong vibes that it was pre-Victorian, at least. The shop owner had no idea either (and honestly couldn’t have given two shits). I couldn’t even google it, because this weird little store seemed to be in a black hole for 4G.
Still, for less than a fiver, it was destined to be mine.
I mean, just look at these scenes.
Like a vintage Where’s Wally?
And oh look — a lovely seaside slice of life. How on brand.
As soon as I got home, doooown the rabbit hole I went, and discovered — holy fuck — this thing is from precisely my story’s historical era (1860s). Not only that, it’s actually pretty special. According to Wiki, Doyle’s collection is a ‘culturally significant’ piece of work that makes up ‘part of the knowledge base of civilisation as we know it,.
Because although these sketches are ostensibly a set of somewhat silly little caricatures, they are unique in that they depict the daily life and regular people of the time — a mass people-watching project, zooming in on vast crowds full of tiny, intricate details — which tells us so much about what Doyle saw in the world around him in the 1800s. A bonafide bird’s eye view.
All of these prints are in the public domain, so well worth checking out if you’re interested in this kinda stuff. There’s also some really interesting scholarship on Doyle’s work here. (Oh, and incidentally, he also happened to be part of a famous literary family… the uncle of Sherlock-creator, Arthur Conan Doyle.)
I was also gobsmacked to find that (intact) version of these books are going for hundreds of pounds on ye olde internet. Not that I aim on parting with this falling-apart one, but how easily might I have missed this utter gem of research material if I hadn’t listened to my gut and spent a few extra minutes digging out the scattered pieces…?
All this to say:
Not all writing happens on the page.
And I have gained more in these little treasure hunting salvage operations, meandering around thrift shops and rock pools and daydreaming about my imaginary world than I ever would have sat in front of a blank page.
So, if your WIP is currently taking a little sabbatical like mine, then why not indulge yourself in a bit of story scavenging instead?
You never know what you might find.
(And if you’re already a story scavenger, please tell me what cool stuff you’ve come across to help build the world of your story!)
Fancy some more ‘Creative Hibernation’?
Overwinter your WIP with me as we roll gently towards the end of the year…
Starting 25 November, Creative Hibernation is a series of restful, story-grounding, connection-seeking workshops, right here at The Joy of Fixion.
View the Creative Hibernation series here »
(subscribe to paid posts for full access)
Does your work-in-progress need a nap?
Let your writing rest for a bit this winter while you take a step back, get some objectivity, and indulge in a little creative reconnection.
Each week we’ll be looking at a different aspect of your writing and experimenting with low-pressure ways of supporting your WIP’s progress during downtime.
Including:
The benefits of taking a break from your WIP!
Taking stock of progress so far
Finding the flow and immersing yourself in your story
Building your writing confidence
Reigniting excitement in your work
Embracing the unknown
Making a masterplan for absolutely smashing it in the new year!
After 6 weeks, you’ll be ready to get back on track with your head straight and your creativity champing at the bit – without even getting out of your pyjamas.
Creative Hibernation will be available to paid subscribers for a smidgeonous £5/month, sooooo… you know what to do:
Hope you’ll join me.
Until then:
Happy writing :)
oh wow that bone thing definitely looks like a ghibli forest spirit!!