At Aspergers but...

Now caught up with Chris Packham's @ChrisGPackham documentary Aspergers and Me and I love his positive message: we should be celebrating difference and intelligence. Our education system labels as failing. But Aspergers and Autistic children I have worked in schools have amazing qualities: incredible, detailed memory and acute, focused intelligence.

Not Autistic Spectrum but Individual Intelligence Spectrum!

Pocklington Arts Centre workshop

Pocklington Arts Centre @PocklingtonArts was our venue on Saturday for a writers workshop - we spent some time exploring story structure before delving a bit deeper into those writing skills such as sensory detail, synaesthesia and lifting and expanding sentences.


Some feedback from delegates:

'As one new to writing I found it informative, relaxed, encouraging.'

'Did not know what to expect... I very much enjoyed the session; feel inspired to write... I must avoid cliches! Lots of helpful tips.'

'Loved the workshop, very relaxed and collaborative, supportive atmosphere. Will definitely attend more.'

Well you'll be really welcome - thanks, all, for making it such a great morning.
Look out for more workshops and courses on www.carrotsmash.co.uk -

Check us out at Pocklington Arts Centre http://www.pocklingtonartscentre.co.uk/events/exhibitions%20and%20workshops

or find details of York Carrotsmash courses at yorklearning.org.uk

Room

Last weekend's workshop @YorkExplore was great fun - we took the idea of a room from our past as a starting point, then played with descriptive writing, working with colour and mood. Some beautiful pieces written in response. A few feedback comments:

'I thoroughly enjoyed the whole thing'.
'The teacher was very approachable and extremely encouraging. I didn't feel under pressure at all. Very pleased'.
'The thing I liked most: tools and strategies to use when writing - actual writing and feedback. Encouragement! Knowledge from Ali the tutor'.
'Ali is good'.

Thanks to delegates for their positive comments - we aim to please!

Checkout www.carrotsmash.co.uk for up and coming workshops and courses.

Writing from Memory - the Risks we take

What do you do when... a workshopper at the latest Carrotsmash writing workshop @PocklingtonArts uses, for her final piece, her memory of the moment when she held her dying baby in her arms?

Thank her profusely, that's what you do - for taking the risk to 1) recall it in a group situation 2) write it down and 3) share it out loud with us.

It never fails to amaze me how these Writing from Memory workshops produce such moving, expressive writing. My task is to create the right group atmosphere so that writers feel they can share - this lady began the workshop by saying how intimidated she felt. Yet 3 hours later, she produced a finely crafted, sensory piece that articulated her grief all too clearly.

She thanked me at the end - but I was the one who wanted to thank her for her bravery.

Ali x
www.carrotsmash.co.uk

Carrotsmash at Pocklington Arts Centre

Morning all! Autumn term is well under way now and the first of our Carrotsmash Writing Workshops at Pocklington Arts Centre @PocklingtonArts went down a storm! Here's what our latest group of workshoppers thought...

'I really cannot fault the course in any way - the only way I feel it could be improved is to last longer. Thank you so much!'

'I liked the pace - I liked the instruction, time to think, and the time to write - I really enjoyed the session and it got me thinking.'

'Good structure - playing around then on to more serious writing. Not intimidating.'

'Words to describe today: Rounded, professional, peaceful, unrushed but had pace, supportive, focused, challenging.'

'I like the freedom to just write. Everyone has a story, it's their choice to write it, all they have to do is pick up a pen.'

On to the next... October 14 'Stuff for Writers' @PocklingtonArts

And so to print...

This week I met with my client who is brain injured, Mick (not real name) and the publisher. I''ve been ghost writing for Mick since early March and he has now taken the decision to go ahead and print his memoir. We discussed a dedication, front cover, how many photographs etc. I'm proud of him - he is seeing this project through to completion and so, in due course, he'll hold in his hands his life story, written down.

I'm so glad, now, that I didn't tamper with the narrative voice too much. The voice is Mick's and the story is his. It will be a slim book - his damaged brain simply ran out of things it could remember, in the end. But I'm so glad I didn't add unnecessary padding - it is real and moving and, as we approach the last stages, I've come to realise that I am as emotionally involved in this as he is.

So, in due course, I'll hold in my hands Mick's life story, written down - and what a moment it will be.

Ali x

Writing Memoir with Mick

This week, I drive Mick (not his real name) out to the site where the car in which he was a passenger slammed into a tree - and his brain injuries changed his life forever. He has been here once before, about 10 years ago he tells me. As we approach the area, he becomes quiet and I know it is because he is searching for that tree.

We leave the car, and walk up and down the road, looking. I don't know what I was expecting - some monster growth of tree trunk, perhaps, reaching with malicious intent out into the road? Scratches and gouges, all these years later? I hadn't realised that it is a popular area for walkers: a trail leads away from the road into woodland. The trees are green spindlesticks, surrounded by summer growth of fern. It is a warm day. The road is a fast one, though, and the thought of that awful moment of impact chills me.

Mick cannot find the tree. It is a while before he looks up and admits that things might have changed, here. New growth has obscured what he thought would still clearly be visible. After a while, I hesitate, then suggest that - maybe - it is a sign that things move on.

He thinks, then says, 'Do you think that God is saying to me that I should let go; move on too?'

What can I say? 'Yes, I do Mick. Everything moves on in this world, doesn't it?' I think back to our earlier sessions; he was so angry. So caught up in his past. I look at him, and he is smiling.

I'm not suggesting that this is the happy ending he deserves - that would be trite. But at least there is a chance - a small one perhaps - that he will one day begin his process of letting go.

I guess there is a chance that this memoir will become part of that.

Ali x