I say lucky, but in truth it happened because I did that thing creatives often find hard to do: I opened my mouth and asked if I could join in. In other words, I emailed the project’s producer and let her know that I was available, have relevant knowledge and skills, and was keen to do something for the project.
Self-doubt is no stranger to the writer: we already live with that mocking voice asking why we’d think anyone wants to hear our stories. If you add to that a reluctance to push ourselves ahead of others – to queue jump, in effect – and to ask for something that we want, then we’re stuffed.
But several years as a freelance have shown me that simply having a good set of skills and being in the market place isn’t enough to get you picked for things. Sometimes there’s no turn-taking. Sometimes when you spot an opportunity, you’ve got to be brave and just go for it before somebody else thinks to do it instead. To send off what Creative Coach Pete Mosley calls a ‘cheeky letter’ and suggest yourself for a piece of work.
What’s the worse that can happen? They might say no – and your ego will be bruised for a bit (and, for a while at least, you’ll probably hate every artist who does get taken on for the project!) Even then, they may well remember you for next time, when your skills and experience are a better fit for what they need someone to do.
But they might also say ‘wow, that’s a fab idea – let’s talk!’ and you’ll be one step closer to running that workshop, or book reading, or the contract with the new agent.
It’s then that luck comes into it – luck that they’re running workshops at all, that they haven’t already got someone who can do what you do, that your style and experience fits with what they’re looking for.
That’s what happened to me. I was lucky, but I wouldn’t have achieved that luck – and the freelance fee – if I hadn’t first been brave and let LU Arts know that I was out there.
And that means that I wouldn’t have run the writing workshop at Charnwood Museum which introduced me to new members of the local writing community nor heard the fantastic things that they wrote.
I wouldn’t have read my children’s story to an appreciative audience in Queen’s Park (thus achieving my New Years’ Resolution 7 months early!)
I wouldn’t have flagged my ‘writer’ status to 45 pupils at a local primary school nor worked with artist Chiara Dellerba on the workshops we delivered there.
I very nearly didn’t hit ‘send’ on my email to LU Arts because it felt a bit ‘spammy’ sending it. But I’m so glad that I did. Because they clearly didn’t mind and the project ended up being a wonderful opportunity for me – to my standing as a writer in the community and for my creative output, too.
What ‘cheeky letter’ could you send to move yourself forward with what you want to do?