Writing is a process, but it’s also about processing. Typing out a story – then hacking it apart and rewriting it - helps me answer the deceptively complicated question of what it is I actually want to say. Often, at the start of something, my honest answer is: no idea. It’s only through stringing sentences together, unpicking them, and restringing multiple times, that I’m able to articulate my own thoughts to myself.

This “process of processing” is what drives me to write about overcoming crises. I’ve written stories since I was very young, but the speed at which I’ve done so has picked up at moments of major change: when I went to university; when I left my home country; during pandemic lockdown; when my daughter was born. If I want to understand myself better or work out the kind of person I want to become next, I write.

Since I left the UK for France ten years ago, the pace of change in the world has accelerated. I imagine a lot of people are out there feeling lost; maybe they also want to find ways to communicate to themselves and others the kind of person they want to become. It can be easy to lose track of personhood when faced with global problems like climate change; how much can an individual matter when a whole group is at risk? But the only way through difficult times is to find small bits of hope; and there’s so much hope in fiction, whether you write or read it.

I imagine all writers want a certain amount of validation, but I don’t think twelve-year-old me, sitting in his bedroom writing Final Fantasy fan-fiction, is thinking much about literary prizes; he’s rather looking to be understood - not by everyone, but by a few choice folks he might connect with. He wants to know if anyone else out there thinks like him. He’s saying: “Here’s what I think is cool.” And he’s hoping someone answers: “Hey, guess what? Me too!”

Writing is therefore also about community. It’s about being vulnerable with other people so they might in turn be vulnerable with you. That’s why I love being part of writing partnerships and critique groups; I learn so much from my partners and their characters. Seeing friends translate their lived experiences and unique expressions of personhood into creative writing helps me find new, sustainable internal energy sources.

I recently decided to become a French citizen - another big change on my personal horizon. In France, instead of completing a multiple choice exam, applicants for nationality have a face-to-face meeting with a bureaucrat - a qualitative appraisal of one’s level of integration and reasons for seeking nationality. It’s called an entretien d’assimilation or assimilation interview, which sounded more Cyberman than républicain to me.

As I began thinking through the questions I might be asked - What does equality mean to me? - I once more turned to writing. ALL EQUAL IN UTOPIA, my winning entry to New2theScene’s Winter 2025 Short Story Competition, was born from this processing of my place in French society and from my experience juggling different cultural definitions of the same words. By creating an exaggerated, contorted world where equality of opportunity was the only definition that mattered, I was able to organise my thoughts on France’s national motto of liberté, égalité, fraternité, pass the interview and become a French citizen.

I firmly believe that creating new worlds helps us better understand our own, and I’m grateful for spaces like New2theScene for helping people through the difficult, messy process of building those worlds from scratch.

Website: joepearsonwriter.com

Listen to Joe's winning podcast here.