When I Am Not Writing

 

Writing is often thought of as something that happens only when a person sits down and begins putting words on a page. There is some truth in that, because concentration needs a certain amount of peace and quiet. But for me, much of the thinking happens away from the place where I actually write.

I walk a great deal, usually through the park in Yambol or along the River Tundzha. These are ordinary places rather than dramatic ones, and that is part of their appeal. The river moves steadily past while people walk their dogs, older men sit talking, children run ahead of their parents and others simply go about their day. Nothing is being arranged for anyone's benefit. It is just everyday life carrying on.

Walking gives thoughts room to move. Something that has been difficult to resolve while sitting at home can sometimes become clearer after twenty minutes beside the river. A sentence may come together, an argument may begin to make more sense or I may suddenly see that I have been approaching an idea from the wrong direction. On other days, nothing useful comes from it at all, which does not matter. I do not go for a walk expecting to return with a chapter.

I also cycle when the weather allows. It has a different effect. Walking gives me more time to notice what is happening around me, whereas cycling tends to clear my head. There is something about movement and having to concentrate on the road that pushes other thoughts into the background for a while. Quite often, an idea that has been bothering me seems easier to deal with afterwards.

One of the pleasures of living in Bulgaria is being able to sit outside at a café for much of the year. I am quite happy with a coffee and some time to watch what is happening around me. People meet, argue, laugh, complain, carry shopping, greet neighbours and disappear again. Most of it is completely ordinary, but ordinary behaviour is interesting when you pay attention to it. Much of what we are comes out in these small exchanges.

I also try to take part in local events when they happen. Having lived here for many years, I do not see these occasions simply as something to watch from the outside. They are part of living in a place. Village and town gatherings still bring people together in ways that can easily be overlooked. Food is shared, people help one another, traditions continue and everybody seems to know rather more about everybody else's business than they might elsewhere.

These occasions also remind me that people do not live separately from their surroundings. Family, neighbours, traditions, money, weather, habits, obligations and the place in which someone lives can all influence the way a life develops. That is something I have become increasingly interested in through my writing.

At weekends, when I can, I like going to the Black Sea. It is close enough to make the journey without turning it into a major expedition, but far enough away to feel like a change. The coast has a different pace from Yambol. There is more space, a wider horizon and the simple pleasure of being beside the sea. I usually return feeling that whatever had been occupying my mind before I left has become a little less important.

Reading is generally the last thing I do at night. I read in bed until I become too tired to continue. Sometimes that means only a few pages, while on other nights a book keeps me awake much longer than it should. I have done it for so long that going to sleep without reading would now feel strange.

So when I am not writing, there is nothing especially unusual going on. I walk, cycle, drink coffee, read, spend time around other people and occasionally go to the coast. But these ordinary parts of life have become important to the way I think and write.

People are interesting when they are simply being themselves. Places affect the way we behave. Small decisions lead to other decisions, circumstances change, relationships influence us and routines quietly shape our days. Most of this happens without anyone giving it much thought.

The coffee table in my living room is where I usually do the writing. The material for it comes from everywhere else.