What to do when no one cares and no one is looking

Photo by Hannah Olinger on Unsplash

“I think there’s a certain amount of shame that accompanies the sense that you should have accomplished more by a particular age. That the dream belongs to a different kind of person, a younger person, an able bodied person, a person without kids […] You’re only valuable if you’re young. You’re only valuable if you’re the smartest person in the room. You’re only valuable if you’re pretty. You’re only valuable if you’re thin. You’re only valuable if you accomplish THIS by a particular age, if you hit the bestsellers list, if you sell a novel, if you have an adaptation made. It’s all BS. It’s all designed to make you feel bad so you don’t achieve. So, I’m here to say you need to ignore that. That you are in a war with the existing culture that we have that does not want you to make art. And your job as an artist is to make art when no one cares and when no one is looking.”
— Leigh Bardugo

This quote stopped me in my tracks. It’s fierce, isn’t it? Fierce and true and a little bit heartbreaking.

Because maybe you do feel too late, too tired, too unsure. Maybe you’ve started and stopped, circled your writing dreams for years like a dog trying to find the right spot to lie down. Maybe life (with all its glorious mess – kids, grief, jobs, health, not-enough-time-or-money-or-belief) has made you think that art is for other people. Or that your chance has passed.

But here’s what I believe: if the desire to write is still whispering to you, it’s not too late. Your voice matters. Your stories matter. You don’t need permission. You just need a pocket of time, a bit of courage, and a room (virtual or otherwise) where people are rooting for you to begin again.

So why not come and write with us?

The Heart Leap Writing Hour happens twice a week – and we’re writing at 9am today. We’re a gentle, joyful bunch. Cameras optional, pressure non-existent. You bring your notebook, your half-formed idea, your resistance, your hope – and we’ll sit beside you (on Zoom, with tea), and write anyway. Because we do care. And we are looking.

Today’s prompt (if you need one):
Write about a time you thought it was too late – and it wasn’t.

I will calling in from the road tomorrow at 9am as I’m en route down south to spend Easter with my son, Charlie. I’m very excited.

See you at 9am.

Suzy x

Here’s the link: