We spoke with Alison Down and found out more about her art and activism, her experience and her motivation for doing the work she does!
Tell us a bit about yourself.
Alison Down: My name’s Alison Down. I am a freelance writer; I also am a sessional lecturer at (Liverpool) John Moores University. I write lots of things - my background is in theatre; I’ve done a massive amount of community writing and outreach work. I then moved into writing and working within the area of media, so I’ve taught screenwriting, I’ve worked from taking scripts from the page to production, mostly in the university setting and I also do spoken word.
When did you start writing? What made you interested in writing?
AD: I think I always enjoyed writing and wanted to write. I’m a working-class woman, so I didn’t see writing as something that would be able to sustain me on a financial level. So, I worked my way through the education system and I became freelance when I’d written some plays for GCSE productions for my students and got good feedback on them and made that jump from being in a school setting to (thinking) “Actually, I probably need to do this outside the school setting for my own development” and so I made myself freelance. That was when I took that jump to actually (it wasn’t just writing at that point) devising and writing and making work again within a community youth setting.
Do you write poetry or prose? Do you prefer writing by hand or typing? Why?
AD: I write poetry, I don’t really see myself as a prose writer but saying that, who knows, I may change my mind next year. I just love to write. I have terrible handwriting – I do hand-write and then I spend ages trying to decipher my handwriting. I sometimes speed write – so for spoken word, I will often write on my phone, really quickly, and then transfer it over to a computer where I can work with it in more detail. Sometimes, if I’ve not got that available, I will sit and hand-write. So, I’m happy in both mediums.
How did you begin to first circulate your writing?
AD: I went to spoken word events. I was already kind of on the – coming and working for Windows, I’d met writers like Curtis Watt and Levi Tafari and done workshops alongside them where they would get up and perform. Then all the kids would look at me like, “What are you going to do?” and I was like, “I write plays which I can’t really perform for you right now so I will tell you about them” and both Curtis and Levi were like, “No, go away write poems” [laughs]. And so, I started to go to spoken word nights – I went to Dead Good Poets initially, and then I was involved in the setting up of A Lovely Word, because that was set up by one my ex-youth theatre young people who is now a professional writer, award-winning, which is fabulous. Very rarely do I circulate my actual written word, although of late (because I consider myself to be an activist as well as a writer), I do post but I don’t tend to go down that ‘wanting to be published’ route, it’s not really what I want to do. What I want to do is probably performance-based and connecting with an audience.
Do you have a fanciful/pipeline piece of work that you want to write?
AD: A lot of the time when I am writing, what prompts me to write is centred around activism and often writing or trying to amplify voices that aren’t always heard or amplified. So, that’s where my political background (and writing) cross over. I think I’m often very interested in writing – so it’s not fanciful – it’s about writing the stories that aren’t always told or given air time. And I think as a writer when I teach writing, no matter what the age, I always try and encourage people to think about what the audience is and who are we targeting this for because writing for yourself, although it may be cathartic, that looks in – and I think in the world that we live in, we need to look out and we need to make connections to join people together.
How do you deal with writer’s block?
AD: As someone who is probably undiagnosed ADHD, I think I, as a much older woman now, am understanding of the fact that I will have times where I can really intensely focus and write, and there are other times and situations where that becomes harder for me to manage. So, what I try and do when I am in those moments of productivity and I can really sit and have the time to do that, I will really take advantage of that and try to create that space for myself. I’m more understanding now of the fact that writer’s block is not what it is for me, what it is for me is creating an environment that is helpful for me to sit and write. When I can’t write, I read and I feed that creative side of myself because that is really important. So, I’ve just been reading Salena Godden’s latest poetry collection because it’s feeding that part of me again that’s like “Right, I know I need to get on with stuff”, but in the meanwhile, I’m more accepting of the fact that sometimes – it’s like Maslow’s hierarchy of needs – sometimes you can’t write because there is too much going on down here (at the bottom of the pyramid) and it’s getting in the way of you reaching those moments. From a class point of view as well, I have to earn a living, I have to do other things that mean that writing can be a little bit of a privilege as opposed to having the funds to support myself during those dry patches.
How does writing express your thoughts more so than other mediums?
AD: Writing in general – when I write, I get lost in writing, it just allows you to craft a world, characters, place. And then when you know you’ve done a good job, and you’ve edited it, and you’ve had some feedback so you know it’s not just yours again, that it’s kind of grown, and it feels like it’s of value and it’s worthy of leaving that safe place, whether it be handwritten or on a computer – I think it’s just that moment of knowing that you have written something and produced something that is worthy of an audience and that will impact. Most recently, I wrote a poem about being a mum and the situation in Palestine, because the idea of people staying silent over what is happening there is so at odds with my beliefs and feelings about how, not just as a parent but as a human being, we can choose to scroll on by these absolutely appalling events that are happening. I posted it as a way of letting it go, but I also posted it because I could see on my own social media people just choosing not to comment and being silenced and that is a dangerous place to be. The response to that has been quite positive and quite powerful. I think that’s the difference between when we talk about events or politics or the situations of the world – once we talk about them, they’re gone but the minute you put something down on a page and it’s there, it’s that ability to connect post that conversation. Again, it’s down to really crafting something that has meaning and theme and empathy and all those things that allow us to connect with a wider audience. That’s why I write, because I want to connect with people.
What would you hope your work provides for other people?
AD: I hope that my work provides a voice, that is inclusive and political and kind. And occasionally funny [laughs].
What is one thing you would say to your younger self?
AD: To my younger writer self, I would say – write. I would say, possibly, don’t take so long to commit to the career that you’re worthy of. I think it’s very easy when you are not necessarily from a background where you can financially support yourself, when you are female, when you are a mum, when you are in a creative industry that is not being supported by the present political situation – all those things create barriers but I think the thing that creates the biggest barrier sometimes is when you don’t believe that you should be writing. I think that stops so many young people, people in general, no matter what age. I’ve got numerous friends that have found success in recent years who are my age or above, because they bring life experience, they bring so many other things to the table that as young writers we maybe didn’t have but we also maybe didn’t have that belief that we had stories that were worth telling. What I would say to my younger self is that these stories around you, the stories that you will see as you go through your life, that you know are important stories, you should absolutely be telling them with an authentic voice. If you are not that voice, what you should do is find and support the people that are, so that they can tell those stories.
It's like impostor syndrome, isn’t it?
AD: Yes, and it’s really real. It really does stop people from doing what they want to do. So, organisations like Windows – it’s been harder for Windows since not having Arts Council funding – but when I was first working with Windows, what Windows did was absolutely giving me a buffer of financial support and it allowed me to use the skills that I had as a creative facilitator, that I’d gained as a teacher, so I was coming with this real understanding of the education system, how to structure sessions, all of that I had from my teaching career; but what Windows did was support me in making that move over and Windows has been a constant in my freelance career and I’m really grateful for that support and belief that I am a good storyteller in whatever form I choose to write.
One piece of advice you heard that has stayed with you until today, and you would want young writers to know?
AD: I think it is that advice about finding other organisations, other writers, other creatives that are telling the stories that you believe in and that you want to tell. So, they get you and you get them - work at building those relationships so that, from a point of view of actually creating work within communities, which is my area of interest as opposed to necessarily publishing work, those people become your tribe. They support you and you support them. So, even when times are hard, you know “Well, I’ve worked with that person before. Maybe they are doing something that I can bring some skills to” or maybe you need to start a project that pulls in on the creative skills of the people around you. What that does is build a sense of community, which as a writer is really, really important, and it showcases good practice. It just strengthens your own ability to produce work so, reach out - and it’s not networking, it’s building a community. So, in Liverpool, what I have is a Windows community, which crosses over, other organisations also benefit from those writers, but there is that key ethos of Windows, which is about playfulness and creativity, which was why I was interested in working alongside Windows. But I also have other creative artists who work in completely different mediums that I know and want to support and be part of their work. So having that group around you adds value and it creates a space for you to belong.