A blog? I’ve never written a blog in my life. I’ve spent my life avoiding requests like this, as more of a talker than a writer, the words that flood conversations seem to bury themselves away whenever a pen is closeby.
A few things have led me to putting pen to paper here. My founding the Super Power Agency being the major factor of course, so I really only have myself to blame. Strange that a whole life avoidance of writing saw me start a literacy charity. Life as a designer, and mother has also thrown up the unavoidable task of writing on many occasions — you know those mundane, necessary and factual jottings. Since childhood though, there is one kind of writing I adore. Notecards, I can’t help but pick them up. I have a multiplying stash of them in the studio and the task of matching the card with the recipient and sitting down with a (nice) pen to write a thoughtful, but short note makes me feel very happy. Maybe it’s the triple prong of visual, thoughtful and creative that makes it more enjoyable task. Maybe it’s because I know the joy that comes along with receiving a handwritten note. It’s just lovely to know someone is thinking of you.
Anyway, blog…
Reading on the other hand is something I regularly, and willingly battle with. I move through the pages at a plod, and I often stop mid-paragraph to think about how wonderful it is that we can share education, emotion, history and imagination in this way. In a world that moves at a million miles an hour, I love that books are patient with me. You see, I’m dyslexic with nice pens and a major literacy avoidance issue. So while I feel it’s sod’s law that I have to write this… I realise that my discomfort is shared by many of the children we work with at SPA. So here I am also being swept up by their encouragement, a spiral of goodness.
“I move through the pages at a plod, and I often stop mid-paragraph to think about how wonderful it is that we can share education, emotion, history and imagination in this way. In a world that moves at a million miles an hour, I love that books are patient with me. You see, I’m dyslexic with nice pens and a major literacy avoidance issue.”
Maybe a story is the simplest way to begin? One that is, I guess wrapped up in my reasons for founding the Agency in the first place. And before we go any further, I should say, a lot of good has come out of what I’m about to share with you so I can promise a happy ending. I don’t want you losing faith in me just three paragraphs in!
A month or so ago, I was spun back into emotions that I hadn’t felt in a long time. It was a Scottish summer evening and I was making my way to the Edinburgh leg of Michael Pedersen’s book launch, Boy Friends at the Portobello Book Shop.
Michael is a poet, author and friend. As a local lad with a lovely nature, he juggles words as if he is the master act in a circus, it was only a matter of time before he and I crossed paths. It was the early days of the SPA and he offered to dress up as his childhood literary hero for our launch. Let it be known that MP is the only person on Earth who can rock a pair of green tights better than Peter Pan himself.
His book, Boy Friends is a reflection on male friendship and masculinity. A love letter to his late and much beloved friend Scott Hutchison who during his lifetime touched the hearts of those who were lucky enough to know him personally, and those that felt connected to him through his music.
Michael’s book is pages of shared memories and raw emotion delivered with all the energy, humour and rawness that makes him such a lovely human to know. His reading at the launch event felt like we were being taken by the hand and shown around the inside of his heart and head. I can’t think of a heart or head I’d rather be shown around to be quite honest. Michael’s worlds have taken us to many weird and wonderful places over the years, but in Boy Friends he shows us the value in nurturing our friendships and how each moment shared (be they tiny or monumental) with our chosen ones can shape us as people, even after we lose them.
This book offers me a familiar momentum as someone who has experienced grief. I lost both my brother and father in a tragic accident almost 20 years ago. My amazing Mother suffered with such fortitude but joined them 6 months later from cancer and a broken heart. A truly devastating time. My rascal brother had such a vibrant energy that I miss dearly. It’s so sad that my children didn’t have the opportunity to hang out with Uncle Rex — I can only imagine the mischief they’d get up to, and though I can see Rex in each of them, you really have to meet someone to truly ‘get’ their magic.
The thing that kept me going through such a difficult time was friends, of which my brother had many! His good friend (a writer thankfully!) wrote an article about him not long after we lost him. It was here I was introduced to a facet of my brother that only Ruaridh knew. In just 1000 words or so, I was comforted to know that my brother was just as treasured to his friends as he was to me. Reading this short article about the adventures they shared together brought, and still brings, a big old smile to my face today.
Rex’s magic was real.
A man writing about his emotions back then was a rarity, so I’m very glad that Boy Friends exists 18 years later. It’s sure to bring comfort to anyone experiencing personal grief, but especially to men who have in the past been programmed to ‘keep it together’. Unsurprisingly I came away from the book launch with armfuls of copies which I dutifully wrapped (with a scribbled notecard!) and sent off to each of Rex’s friends who I’m glad have remained in my life since.
Anyway, it got me thinking about a jumble of things. Ruaridh writing about my brother all those years ago, and Micheal’s ode to Scott. My stash of notecards. How writing is cathartic. Memories are good. Friendships are good. Sharing is good. It’s all connected and important and honest. I take comfort knowing that brilliant people like Micheal Pederson exist in the world and are supportive of our work at the SPA. Our staff and volunteers do incredible work getting young people into writing, swapping the constraints of the education system with freedom of expression. Encouraging them to write whatever they choose, unapologetically, in any shape or form.
Anyway, this was more than a notecard, I’ve surprised myself!
PS. Post-event at Portobello, Michael told me that he would like to donate some proceeds of Boy Friends to the SPA. We are delighted that his donation will see local children publish their own ‘Guide to Porty’. I told you he was a good egg.
Written by Maxine Sloss
Founder Super Power Agency