Some people are blessed, or cursed, with a vocation. They know at five years old what they are going to do in life and set out to do it. I have not been that fortunate. Reaching 70 with a varied career, I still didn’t really know what I was going to do when I finally grew up.
Over a working lifespan of almost 50 years I have had various jobs. Some were simple, such as labouring and telephone surveys; some were craft-based, like carpentry/joinery (qualified), or painting and decorating (unqualified); and one was vocational – nursing.
There was a clue: I left school at 16 and despite poor GCEs became an apprentice journalist. That led to a work in a press office, a brief stint as a copywriter and then various sales jobs, including selling accident insurance in Dublin while the H Block hunger strikes progressed in Ulster. Drifting, no direction.
I struggled with lack of self-belief and confidence, and the imposter syndrome worked its insidious magic, not to mention an overdeveloped liking for Young’s special bitter. I have always enjoyed words, books and literary pursuits like theatre and amateur theatre, but I struggled as a young reporter. Over the years I have written poetry and occasional essays and radio pieces, all stored unpublished and unpolished.
There were times when I thought I had found my metier. Working for an ethical dental company and demonstrating to dentists and dental technicians satisfied the actor, persuader and market trader in me. When I retrained as a mental health nurse it seemed I had found my vocation, especially working with alcohol and drug misuse. As a recovering alcoholic, I thought I had found my niche. Nursing was very satisfying when it seemed that someone benefitted from my input, but it could also be heart-breaking. The danger is developing a smugness disproportionate to my effectiveness. Addiction nursing and mental health nursing is very much about being part of a process.
I retired but after two or three years felt I was treading water. I was mentoring people while following a recovery programme, but not living my life to its potential. An admired friend suggested I write a memoir. I enrolled on a memoir-writing workshop with Guardian Masterclasses – and from there, serendipitous events guided me towards higher education. I heard a Radio 4 interview with Julia Cameron discussing her book The Artist’s Way. A 12-week project based on her work to rediscover creativity followed.
The seeds sown with the Guardian Masterclasses course were to pay dividends. I noticed an email inviting me to a free open evening at The Guardian in their King’s Cross headquarters, to learn about their Creative Writing and Publishing MA, in partnership with the University of Lincoln. I went. I was there for the craic, to meet Owen Jones, to hear a few stories and see who else appeared. I was not smart, too old, had no first degree (although I did have a University of Leeds diploma in Mental Health Nursing). I could not possibly do an MA.
It was as if some voice was saying: “here is an opportunity” – but I still bombarded myself with self-sabotaging objections. I submitted samples for the course and waited, telling myself that of course they wouldn’t have me. I discussed the cost with my wife hoping she might put her foot down. She pointed out that it was my money and I was quite capable – and then I was accepted. An old saying came to mind from my sales days: it was time to s**t or get off the pot.
Last September I joined my new cohort of students and was welcomed by kind people – young enough to be my grandchildren – and our professor, Jason Whittaker. Though never explicit, there was the unspoken assumption that we were all there on merit and were capable of completing the course. Since then, I and my fellow course mates have had the privilege of meeting many distinguished writers, poets and journalists.
Now with six weeks before submission for my dissertation I am a proud member of the group. I am, at 70, an apprentice again – but an excited apprentice, eager to work and to learn. While my memoir will still take some time to craft, I also have a novel on the back burner and some poetry written ready for buffing. Hopefully I have at least another 10 years of creativity…
But for now, for the first time in my life, I have found my heart’s purpose.
Our Creative Writing and Publishing MA, offered in partnership with the University of Lincoln, is accepting applications now. Find out more here.
