In a voice that sounds like old china looks, the government minister blathers about Brexit on the radio.
If I wasn’t driving I’d take advantage of his washed-out lifeless tone to send me off to Snoozeville.
Instead I talk out loud to him, like you do when nobody’s looking.
Well actually, I don’t talk at all. I shout and swear, verbally attacking and demeaning him with venom that can only exist - and only be exposed - when you’re alone in the car.
He’s explaining how it’s vital that businesses in the Republic prepare for a No Deal Brexit.
We’ve got to make sure we’re aligned with our suppliers and customers. Are we ready for currency fluctuations, international tax differences and good God and all his mighty tiny creatures, would you ever shut up man?
He’s touched a nerve. A nerve that’s been going into spasm recently.
If I was the owner of a manufacturing business, the minister’s advice might be relevant. Yet as a self-employed entity, the last thing I need is to hear more of the horrors of No Deal.
I’m far too aware of it, and fear the repercussions for deep-felt personal and professional reasons.
Before the financial crash of 2008 I was making a fairly healthy living from freelance writing.
Along with this colyoom, I had a monthly column in the Farming Supplement (yes, you did read that right!) of the Irish Examiner and regularly sold features to the Irish Times, Irish Post and Irish Examiner.
I’ve never considered myself a journalist. That’s a skill set I don’t possess. I’ve never written a news story or covered an event.
Instead, as a writer, I’ve somehow managed to get away with selling whatever I feel like writing.
Before I took up writing professionally I worked in a plethora of corporate jobs which sapped my soul and destroyed my spirit.
Fortunately I never felt like that when working for non-profits. When training a teenage football team, caring for a professor with Alzheimer’s, or teaching an autistic boy, I knew my efforts were not wasted. At worst I’d done no harm.
Loving what you do for a living is one of life’s greatest gifts.
I know how my industry works. After the crash, newspapers cut their freelance budgets as swiftly as their advertisers cut their ads. Columns and features disappeared overnight.
My friend and teacher, the Israeli writer Iris Leal told me decades ago that the first duty of a creative person is to apply their creativity to designing their life, so that they can be creative.
Faced with my own financial disaster, I took her advice and that of a sensei friend: be like a bamboo. Stand strong and tall, but be able to bend and flex when fierce winds blow
I devised and started to teach my own Craft of Writing Course, which I’m delighted to say has turned into a successful enterprise for all concerned.
Being a vocational writer helps a great deal, as I’m able to invest in my teaching the same passion that I feel while writing.
My course deals with the skills of the craft, so it’s more practical than pretentious. All writers can improve our use and understanding of the craft.
Back in my car I’m giving out loud and large to the minister, who’s not going to be offering me any help.
After being flexible and creative in 2008, the likelihood is that both of my income strands will frizzle and die after a No Deal Brexit.
Newspapers still see freelance as a luxury, and my students sign up with what’s left of their disposable income, after paying the bills and feeding the kids.
At least, I hope they do.
Don’t want any fish fingerless children out there on my account.
Watching Johnson’s predictable strategy unfold is unbearably painful. Living out his Churchillian fantasy, he’s amassed his War Cabinet and revels in the idea of a nation in crisis relying on his leadership.
Clearly he never intended to negotiate with the EU. Nobody in the UK can see past what Johnson’s team laughably call the ‘undemocratic backstop.’
We’ve all been backstopped up to our backsides, but let’s get one thing straight: it’s a UK border backstop, not an Irish one.
Nobody’s screaming that had they accepted the Withdrawal Agreement, the UK would have 2 years to negotiate a trade deal, negating the need for the backstop.
Instead for Johnson it’s all about No Deal and winning an election, by combining his adoring Tory supporters with Brexit Party deserters and Labour’s lost Leavers.
If that means the people will suffer, well, that’s never stopped a Tory heartbeat before.
My pain is personal because I love both countries, and dread the hatred being stirred up by Dominic Cummings’ execrable anti-Irish propaganda, cascading from Downing Street onto Red Top and tabloid TV headlines.
Already we hear every day trash talk of the intransigent EU, and insulting lies about the Irish.
No Deal will damage relations between my native country and adopted home for decades, challenging a fragile peace process, causing ructions in my heart and craters in my bank account.
Good reason to make the most of these remaining months of relative peace. If you fancy learning new skills, why not sign up for my course? I’ve only one place left, so the first deposit/payment I receive will be at the table.
If you're interested please contact me now at: charlieadley1@gmail.com
Charlie Adley’s Craft of Writing Course
Thursdays, 7:15 - 9:00 pm,
8 weeks: September 5th - October 24th.
€120/110.
Westside Resource Centre, Galway City.
©Charlie Adley
18.08.2019
3 comments:
Hello Charlie.
I noticed sometimes you use the word "colyoom": does it mean columnist?
I am sorry to disturb you asking such a trivial question, but I was not able to find out the meaning of "colyoom" anywhere.
Thank you.
Renato Zanette
Treviso - Italy
Hi Renato
I'm the one who should be saying sorry, for leading you astray.
When I first started to write Double Vision people were coming up to me in the street saying they had enjoyed my colyoom.
“My what?”
“Oh, you know. Your colyoom in the paper. Your ar-tickle.”
That's when I realised that in same way that the Irish watched a ‘fil-em’ rather than a film, they read a ‘colyoom’, not a column.
Purely a matter of pronunciation.
An Englishman living in the West of Ireland, I have been the victim of hysterical and historical slagging. To slag is to attack with affection, and it only really works when reciprocated, so over the last 20 years I’ve enjoyed gentle slagging pleasure by referring to Double Vision as ‘this colyoom’.
Hope that helps - and thanks for being such a loyal colyoomista!
Ciao
Charlie
Hi Charlie,
thank you for replying.
Your explanation is more than exhaustive!
Very kind of you, indeed.
Yes, I am a colyoomista! I wish to improve my English and I find your Colyoom really interesting :)
Bye Charlie.
Renato
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