Late last year, I got into my sixth-hand little Toyota late at night, driving through freezing fog down a series of almost-empty motorways to get to my friend’s adorable witch cottage, light glowing in the front window of the narrow terrace at the end of the path. I was there to spend a couple of days cat-sitting – my friend has a cute and skittish nutjob black moggy who at first glance looks eerily similar to my own – and have some solo time creative time between seeing my usual online clients.
It’s taken me many years to recognise how much I love and need time on my own, a thing which has been hard to come by in my current relationship and way of living. My partner and I are both self-employed, have been for ages, and although for me that sometimes means projects and contracts based in other places, the majority of is has involved us both working from home. It’s a pattern that’s been compounded by the pandemic and its ongoing legacy. So I’m still working out how I can give myself more alone time more regularly, but suffice it to say: when I get opportunities to hang out with friends’ cats in other places, I’m there every chance I can get.
And this solo adventure had a mission attached: months after the publication of my debut novel, Dear Neighbour, I was going through something of a creative existential crisis (still am, honestly), and was hoping that a few days dedicated space would help me feel a bit more reconnected to myself and my creativity. And one of the things I did while I was there – late at night, fire burning, friend’s cat watching me suspiciously – was go through the entire backlog of writing projects, drafts, fragments and ideas in the dark messy depths of my hard drive. Which yeah, might have initially been a form of procrastination or perfectionism – like, I can get down to writing once everything is sorted into tidy folders and itemised in a colour-coded directory, the way I used to only ever iron my school uniform when I had an essay due – but which then became an unexpectedly useful and generative time-travel tour through the past.
Sorting through everything gave me a helpful perspective on my past body of work. It’s not unusual for me to get caught in a spiral of shame, insecurity and imposter syndrome about all the projects that have come to nothing, been rejected, or abandoned partway through. But doing this deep-dive and cataloguing process helped me see the themes, topics and ideas that had come up again and again over the years of my creative journey so far. And yep, there’s deffo a part of my dorky Liz Lemon soul that gets a bit turned on by spreadsheets, because come on, clarity is so soothing in our chaos-vortex world. But also because being able to see everything help me dispel some of that inner critic bullshit and reconnect to a feeling of solidity in my creative identity, obsessions and style.
Another unexpected outcome: realising I had enough material in the dark corners of my digital vaults to form the foundation of the project I’m sharing with you today: my next chapbook, LOST + FOUND.
Available to pre-order from today and out in paperback next month, LOST + FOUND is a mini-collection of seven short stories and accompanying non-fiction, exclusively collected together for the first time. Exploring themes of memory, loss, nostalgia, grief, liminality and identity, it contains some of my earliest published work – going back over a decade – along with never-before-seen stories, and each one is accompanied with a reflection about the context it was written in and the meaning it had at the time.
From knife-wielding, road-tripping teen queens causing cross-country mayhem to anonymous, enigmatic narrators waxing lyrical about their sex toys via stories set on school buses and in notorious council estate pubs, queer clubs, and TV newsrooms, LOST + FOUND is a cabinet of curiosities, rescuing these stories from their previous states, dusting them off and claiming, sharing and celebrating them once more.
This newsletter has several earlier incarnations, from my obsessively-kept teen diaries and Livejournal to the long letters I used to write my friends, to the blogs I’ve had at various corners of the internet over the years, until claiming this home, here and now. Which is to say: journaling and reflective non-fiction writing has long been a part of who I am. But since I’ve started building this practice of writing to you more consistently, I’ve developed a real love for and trust in this journey of sharing my creative process. And that’s why I wanted to include that in LOST + FOUND, writing new material to accompany each of the short stories in it, sharing elements of my past and process that I’ve never put words to before.
I can’t wait for you to read it. If you want to, you can pre-order your copy now. And if you’re new around here, I’d recommend you grab yourself a discount bundle containing both LOST + FOUND and my first chapbook, TRUTH OR DARE.
CLICK HERE TO PRE-ORDER YOUR COPY NOW
And if you’re ever in need of a cat or house sitter, giz a shout. I’ll deffo be there if I can.
Some other things I’m into right now and thought you might be too:
There’s some absolutely banging events coming up in Manchester next month, so if you’re nearby or within travelling distance, here’s two I’m proper excited about:
Mosh Film Festival, a cinematic celebration of rock, metal and alternative music is returning to Cultplex in mid-April, and I know it’s going to be brilliant. I was at the first one in 2022 and I loved every minute.
Also in April, David Hoyle — incredible artist, grade-A transgressive punk weirdo and chaos monster (complimentary) and star of stage and screen including my beloved Velvet Goldmine — is taking over Factory International with a retrospective and series of amazing-looking events, starting with this launch event and culminating in an ‘end-of-the-pier variety show from hell.’ Sign me the eff up, stat.
Outside of reshuffling my diary to make space for all this, I’ve been loving getting to dive into two new podcasts exploring creativity and creative practice. I’ve linked to writing by both Kening Zhu and Laura Ellen Joyce in the past, and I’m thrilled to now also be able to listen to them on their respective podcasts, Botanical Studies in Internet Magic and Deviant Strategies.
COMING UP
Stockport LitFest is tomorrow, Saturday 30th March, and I’m looking forward to being part of it, sharing a workshop on journaling for wellbeing in the morning and a talk about my experience as an author in the afternoon. It’s an entire day devoted to books, creation and illustration, and completely free, so come on down if you’re around.
More details on these two coming soon, but for now here are a couple of dates for your diaries: I’m excited to be performing in Blackpool on April 23rd for World Book Night, and on July 17th in St. Helen’s for Pride.
I’m doing some reimagining around what I want this newsletter to be, and how I want to share it, including a possible move away from Substack. I have more questions than answers at the minute, but consider this your heads-up of some potential changes coming soon.
Congrats on LOST + FOUND, Jane! And your time cat sitting in a witchy cabin sounds divine. I share your love of solitude and spreadsheets. ❤️