I use ellipsis frequently in my titles and am now wondering why.
I suppose the three dots … represent something starting or continuing. Now that I think about that somewhat cliched cliff-hanger, I see my original reasoning for using it.
Perhaps, when I was trying to reboot after a burnout/breakdown, I invested hope in those three dots. They suggested another beginning and then a continued growth.
I had been burnt back to the core and resembled little more than a husk of the person I used to be. I used the metaphor of a forest fire and still liken my time in those desperate few months to the sulphur-black stillness after the inferno had swept through. Wildlife and fauna were no more, only whisps of what ‘had been’ scented the air. For as far as my eyes could see, there was only ashened destruction. Then came…
Ellipsis saved my life. The three dots connected me with what had gone before and provided a possibility of what may come…
The writing of my blog, readafterburnout.com, started to fill in the the gaps whilst giving me hope and the chance to meet a number of very interesting individuals who were also struggling with that big piñata in the sky. So, each day I sat at my screen and wrote, and wrote, and wrote. The last few days have seen me taking a rest as I have been working in a rather magical school that works with youngsters who are autistic. But that, itself, is another source of hope.
Although I have spent the last three years coming back from the brink, teaching has never let me go. Or could it be that I have never let go of teaching? Or could it be that I have held on to it as it is the only thing I know? Or, could it be that teaching informs my view of the world and my place in it?
During the last three years, my income has not been great and, as a result, I have had to use savings to pay the mortgage and the council tax. I have also used savings to attempt to support a vestige of our standard of living and quality of life. All the while, I believed that my salvation was just around the corner. And the more I wrote the more I believed that I would, one day, become a writer. My freedom had a price, but it may have also provided its reward.
Today, I call myself a writer. I also call myself a teacher. My teaching helps to support my family whilst my writing is starting to promise fresh growth for the future. Rome wasn’t built in a day but it almost burnt down in night. My husk has shrugged off the advances of vengeful flames and has begun to root itself into a forest floor that has now become fertile. The flames that burnt so deeply have inadvertently provided the soil for rebirth.
During this time I have written:
Read After Burnout Adventures in Everyday Madness
The Piper Book of Hearts Short Read series
AWOL The Flood Novels The Story of Adam
The Purge. The Piper Series Short Reads 2
. . .