And so it has begun. Semester B, a time for us to fall asleep in lecture halls, listen to lecturers ramble on and do the odd piece of work. Having finished one piece already, I get a strange feeling that this semester may be a little harder than last sem. but, by the words of Daft Punk: Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger.
I've now finished my project about Sony Erriccson's Xperia Play mobile which got me a little food money but nothing huge. Oh well, the owner of the site I found the ad on made me a featured writer.
I'm also about to begin writing for another publication which apparently sends out it's work to hundreds of other publications. Is this a potential for more work? Who knows.
Now that I've written a fair amount, I'm going to stick a blog up with links to every piece (those which are still not yet online I'll post up with words.
Annnnnnnyway, moving on, here is my first piece for the semester in which we had to write about how we get into our emotions as a writer, what is the strongest of our senses and the earliest smell we can recall.
Enjoy!
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To tap into my emotions as a writer I try to think of past events such as a family member suffering from alchoholism for two years which almost caused my family to break apart.
On another occasion I may be angry at something, and using this feeling I’ll put it onto paper in the form of a diary entry or scribble in a notepad and look at it at a later date and use the words to write something.
Another way to get into my emotions is with music. Being an eclectic listener, I’m happy to listen to almost any genre which suits my mood (currently some Saxon and Gary Moore*). Many songs which were released in the 90s and early 00s (Most notably, Daft Punk‘s ‘One More Time‘) will bring out a feeling of euphoria.
Like many people claim, my strongest sense is probably smell. I can usually remember if something smelt like a piece of fruit or how a certain area had it’s own smell. I can only remember someone’s voice or accent if it is very distinct or sounds like another person’s voice. However, most of the time I don’t take too much notice of a voice.
The earliest smell I can recall is that of rotten eggs. Not the best of smells but one that’ll undoubtedly stick in my mind for a long time due to it‘s strength and how many times it happens.
The smell came at the same time of year, every year, without fail. It would be a hot summer’s day (does anyone remember what that felt like?) a week or so before the summer holidays would kick in and all the 16 year olds would be leaving so, of course, they used this to their advantage. The following became something which we knew would happen but we didn’t know when.
So what was this advantage? It was that of being able to crack open a month-old egg and causing the whole block to smell of said rotten eggs without the risk of being expelled from the school for a length of time.
It would always be on a hot day when a group of us would be sat on the wall, eating what we once thought constituted lunch when, after a while of eating a smell would begin to emerge from one of the blocks. The smell would continuously get worse until it came to the point that we were running in the opposite direction, trying to get away from it. If you’d like to know what we had to suffer with, take a walk past the flats being built of Gallion’s Reach retail park. You’ll then be able to feel how we felt on those once-existent hot, summer days.
*Guitarist of Irish band Skid Row (not the 80s thrash band), Thin Lizzy and solo work who was recently found dead. May a legend R.I.P.
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To criticise my own work, I'm going to say I'm not too impressed with it (however, it is better than a piece I had to write about pensions whilst incredibly drunk) but I am happy with it and using this as my finalised piece.
Just for a treat here is some Gary Moore followed by Skid Row:
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