Since the creation of Yodi, Hélène Azancot has enjoyed forging links with well-being experts who share the same values of transparency, cleanliness, naturalness and sustainability. In order to share these exchanges with as many people as possible, she decided to organize events in the Yodi boutique at 27 avenue Victor Hugo in the 16th arrondissement of Paris, to highlight these inspiring people.
These experts come from different backgrounds: naturopath, author, designer, interior decorator... but they all have one thing in common: they want to make things evolve towards a healthier future.
Today, Hélène met Clémentine Monperrus.
Can you introduce yourself?
I'm Clémentine, 39 years old, and when I was a child I used to say to anyone who would listen, "when I grow up, I'm going to be a writer" (today I'd say a writer, or an author). Now I'm grown up and I'm not a writer. Or not yet. Or not quite. In any case, I've never been published. But I'm not losing sight of that dream, I think the average age of a first published novel is 35. I'm 4 years late, which is acceptable, isn't it? And I'm working on a novel project right now. Besides, I'm not an accountant or a maths teacher either, my whole professional life revolves around writing.
How many years have you been writing?
I've been writing for as long as I can remember. I've been writing since childhood. Most of all, I've been writing since the moment when I realized that writing helped me to free myself, to soothe myself. I've written whole pages about my life, my moods, my anxieties as a little girl, then as a teenager and young woman, and a little less as an adult. I write because I often feel it's the only thing I know how to do.
What's your earliest memory of writing?
It's difficult. I remember that blue notebook I used to write in when I was a teenager. I used to isolate myself, often at the bottom of the garden, to write down my emotions. Often dark, it has to be said. What's surprising is that my first writing actions were linked to difficult, sad periods in my life, whereas writing is fundamentally synonymous with joy for me.
How does it make you feel?
For me, there are two ways of writing. The one I've just described. Cathartic writing, which liberates and soothes. And then the one I've been exploring more in recent years, that of the novel project, of fiction, which is more difficult, more tortuous and which gives me both great feelings of pleasure and clarity, but also the impression of being at the foot of the greatest mountain to climb.
Do you have a writing ritual?
It's a subject I'm very interested in, even passionate about: the ritual of writing, the hygiene of the author. I've read and listened to many interviews with writers on this subject. I've also fantasized a lot about the act of writing. As I've gotten older, I've come to realize that none of this is worth much. Writing is a need, an urgency, and the form of the action is of little importance. Nevertheless, I have to admit that I often write sitting at a desk, a table, at home or in a café, and almost systematically with classical music in my ears, to cut myself off from the world.
What are your obstacles?
The main thing is the effort it takes. For me, it's not a question of rendering, of fear of not succeeding. It's a form of laziness.
What advice would you give to someone who wants to start writing?
Dare. A few months ago, I launched a podcast project linked to the writing exercise. The project was simple: to collect letters. Letters from the anonymous or from more well-known personalities. Letters they'd dreamed of writing, dreamed of sending, but never dared to send. To collect these letters and give them a voice.
I received many e-mails from potential participants, showing their interest in the project and their desire to embark on the journey that it implied, but also mentioning the obstacle that writing represented, sometimes with the impression of an insurmountable difficulty. I realized that even if the desire to write and put down words is there, the transition to action is often more complicated. So I decided to offer writing workshops to give birth to these letters. This first workshop will take place on Wednesday, February 1. So, my advice couldn't be simpler: if you want to write, dare, and if you need someone to hold your hand, sign up for this writing workshop by sending an e-mail to: lalettre.jauraisvoulutedire@gmail.com
Do you have anything to add?
I believe deeply in the virtues of writing, I believe deeply in the impact of the words we use, the ideas we express, on who we are, what we convey, what we transmit.
Thank you very much