Toe in the Water

Toddler No More

Toddler No More

It’s nearly five years since I joined WdC. I know this because I checked the date under my Account details. And I remember very clearly why I joined.

My oldest son, Mad, was the cause. He had suggested that I write a blog to document my experiences in America and he, being a web designer, built that first blog for me from scratch. Together we set off into the net, me providing the content while he honed and perfected the blog mechanics and look.

I’d been involved in internet chat for many years and my friends there provided an instant readership to begin with. Some of them were writers too and a few decided they liked the idea and started blogs of their own. Very quickly, we formed a little group, writing, reading and constantly commenting on each other’s blogs. Most comment systems became forums for long discussions that wandered from the subject of the post to matters wide ranging and multifarious. When chat began to collapse under the weight of trolls and idiots, it mattered not to us; we had already built a refuge of conversation that formed the centrepiece of our days.

And then it fell apart. First one member disappeared without explanation. Andrea found out what had happened but it was such a sorry tale that I won’t repeat it here. Then Harry went and died, and that was really the death blow to the group. Without Harry, the fun had gone and we all wandered off in despair.

The years passed and I had no incentive for the blog anymore. It became hard work and eventually petered out, leaving me exhausted, dispirited and fed up. I needed the companionship of other writers and the spur to write that they gave.

What saved me was the realisation one day that maybe what I needed was prompts. That would provide something to kick me back into action - the initial spark from which I could build a fire. And I knew where to find prompts. I googled “Writers’ Group.”

WdC was the first name on the list. I had a look, liked what I saw, and joined up. That was in May 2019. It took me a while to find my way around its complexities but there was so much here that I kept at it. I never did find a list of prompts (I’ve since found them in other sites on the net but they’re so putrid as to be almost unusable) but I stumbled on something much better. Contests attracted me and, before I knew it, I was writing like fury again, occasionally winning, and building a portfolio in record speed.

It wasn’t long before I realised that I was writing more than I’d ever written before. With a never-ending supply of prompts, spurs and temptations, I was not only producing lots of short stories but the demon of poetry was reawakened. I found myself being dragged into genres that I had never before considered (thanks, Schnujo) and even enjoyed some of them.

Angus helped me a lot in those early days, giving lots of good advice on WdC and persuading me to give horror a try. And there were plenty of others that offered friendship and conversation. In time, I found that it was WdC that was keeping me alive - literally. In allowing me this place where writing matters and everyone cares about it, I have truly found a home that I was needing desperately. Without writing, I have nothing and I know from experience that, without it, I fade away and die.

Which would not be the end of the world, I know. Everyone dies sooner or later. But I feel as if I’m in a hurry now, that I need to get things said that have waited all my life for expression. It would be a pity to leave without emptying most of it over your unsuspecting heads.

So now you know that I’ll not shut up until life shuts up for me. Enjoy it while you can, folks - I’m 75 years old and there’s no guarantee of much more left in this old body.


Word count: 692
For I Heart WdC Contest, February 2024
Prompt: Write your remembrance of WdC.