The only thing I’ve been writing recently is a piece for creative workshop. It’s about war. Specifically a short story about a nameless family fleeing their unnamed country. Because how can I write about anything else right now?
I tried to imagine what it would be like for my family if we had to flee the country with only what we could carry on our backs. I wanted to put readers in the frightening circumstances that so many people are in right now (well, as close to these circumstances as is possible with words on a page). I think to truly emphasise with someone you have to do your best to see through their eyes. It’s been a slow burn writing this piece. I’ve been watching youtube vlogs as my research; real people filming their raw experience as they travel from Ukraine to Poland or Hungary or wherever safety may be. It’s as eye-opening as you can get all these miles away tucked up in bed.
I wanted there to be hope in my short story too, because the thing that stands out the most from all the videos I’ve seen is the strangers helping strangers. And those who refuse to leave their family members behind just because they are a different, fluffier, species. And the volunteers doing everything and anything in their power to help.
So I’ll return to writing my piece on war now. Because how can I write about anything else?
