I’ve not done the prompt for a while and when I saw mighty as this week’s prompt I immediately shied away.
But as I laid there at not even 7 am with a three year old on my chest, having already cleaned up the piss he spread liberally across the beds (his and mine) this morning… And then followed that with feeding the cats, knowing that today can either be terrible (like yesterday) or awesome (please be awesome), I realised….
I am mighty.
Well, maybe not me persay, but we are mighty.
Writers are mighty.
Last year, I decided to try to read more… And read about six books. I’m always up for a competition so this year, I’m going to try and beat my pathetic six by reading seven, or eight, Or bloody hell, over ten.
So far I’ve read three.
The art of tidying up by Marie Kondo was a life changing read really. It made me reduce my wardrobe to practically nothing and rid my house of 21 bags of rubbish… And that’s just after step one. Now, I still live in a shithole because even the kids can pick up the hypocrisy in trying to persuade them to put their toys away while I’m still in my pyjamas at 3 in the afternoon, but now I don’t have clothes festooning everything like knicker shaped banners; little testimonies to my housekeeping failures. I’ve still failed to follow through the next step because it means parting with my book collection and even though I don’t read as much as I should, I really like to buy books like any normal, sane person.
Book 2 was Hey Nostradamus by Douglas Coupland and it made me think about timelines and how atrocities can have an impact that spreads like wildfire, a mass ripple-effect of profound sadness and beautiful solidarity which spans both time and space. It was a topical and painful read and a stark reminder of how life can change in an instant.
Book three was How to Be a Woman by Caitlin Moran. I love her. Love, love, love. Her book said everything I have wanted to say for years about women and feminism. About how some of the neuroses we have is not of our own making but made by the pressures on women to be this thing or that thing or fit in this box or that box. How we have to try so much fucking HARDER at everything just to get by.
But it doesn’t stop there… At these three books I’ve managed to read so far this year. Oh no. Influence and might goes so much further. You don’t even have to look much further beyond a group of bloggers to see how much might writers have, how much force, power and influence.
What you write can change lives and can change minds. Even if it’s just urging one person to consider how they see feminism, or how they sort out their socks or how they deal with timelines in a story, it matters.
We are mighty.