Memories

I really envy people their good memories. I don’t have one. I have a terrible one really. And I think I’ve lost so much of my childhood which, being a children’s writer, it would be really good to access! We were talking about memories on the weekend during the session on Grand Final day. One of the things I like to do with writers, especially new writers, is to try to help them step back into their past. I don’t have kids so I can’t watch them encounter the world and use that for inspiration. So when I write, I’m writing for me. The me I remember and the things I liked, remembering the frustrations I had, the adventures I expected to have and hoping to come up with things I would have liked to read then. And every now and then I do this exercise and it’s amazing what resurfaces.
Suddenly…

You can smell and feel the sheets on your bed.
Feel how tightly they’re tucked in so your toes are all scrunched over.
Smell the dusty carpet under the bed.
Hear parents murmuring in the other room as you fall asleep.

Try it now… stand in your bedroom as a kid.
Take off your shoes and socks. What does the floor feel like? Sit on the bed. What is the texture? How does it smell? Are your feet dangling? What can you hear? What season is it?
It’s amazing how things come back. Walk around your house, or run around it… The textures under your toes, the sound of the rooms and halls, dodging around pets you haven’t seen in years.
The smell of freshly washed pyjamas at bed time!

What came back to you?