Jo Harrington: A Crazy Diamond Trying to Shine

A few years ago, before recession and bank crises decimated the job market, a friend of mine was approaching forty. With two years to go, he resigned from his well paid work and headed into a recording studio.

Many people thought he was mad, but they were the conservative 'save your money and fit into society's worn groove' type of individuals. They would never take any risks. He did. "I want to at least try to be a rockstar before I'm forty," Lxnen told us. I cheered him on all the way. He was following a childhood dream and I respected that. I wanted to be that brave when I was his age.

I'm forty next year. When I was a little girl, I used to write stories on pieces of paper, which I'd then stick together so they formed a 'book'. This would proudly be shown around my primary school playground. I was going to be a famous author one day. I was going to be CS Lewis, Enid Blyton and Giles Reed all rolled into one. It didn't quite work out like that, but the dream never went away.

I never did get the chance to find out if I'm as brave as Lxnen. I was made redundant when the recession hit in 2008. There was no opportunity there to resign anything. On the contrary, I spent the next eighteen months writing job applications and casting CVs after increasingly desperate sources of employment. I eventually secured a position in Mexico, though I remained based in my native Britain. That too disappeared, when the whole company crumbled under the troubles in that country.

But the Mexican job had been writing. I filled a massive website with English language content, as well as keeping a daily blog focusing on all things Mexican. It was my dream come true. Not fiction, not a book on a shelf with my name on the spine, but this was the 21st century now. I'm sure that my seven year self would have approved of the internet, if she could have conceived of it. I know that her geekish, cyber-savvy future self certainly does!

Online freelance writing is my dream. The fact that people would actually pay me for writing is a delight that's utterly delicious to contemplate. Lxnen jumped, I was pushed, but I like to think that we're both reaching for our dreams in an increasingly cynical world. That has to count for something, even if it's against the odds. He crafts his music and I write my words; and we both smile as we do it.

That's only some of them.  See all of my Editor's Choice Awards on my Wizzley profile.

The Steam Summer Sale has been my undoing.  When games are that cheap, you might as well just add another one to your cart. 

Cart contents kind of add up, don't they? 

But on the bright side, I'm now sitting here with many hours of fun in my immediate future. Time wasting?  No.  How can a life filled with fun be time-wasting?  To my mind, the pursuit of happiness is one of the reasons that we're here.

However, Steam isn't my main digital drug of choice. That would undoubtedly be Runescape, where I'm known by my avatar name of Merch Gwyar.

I came to Runescape in 2006, after meeting with friends at the pub.  Everyone around that table was over thirty and they were chatting about their adventures in Gielinor. 

It all sounded much more exciting than my own life.  I was floating somewhere at ceiling level with the stress of work.  My heart was playing up. I was shaking with nervous exhaustion. My doctor was making strong speeches about workaholicism The hospital consultant was recommending me for further tests on my heart.

My Runescape playing friends told me to make a character there. An hour a day running around Lumbridge would soon sort me out.

They were right.

Half a decade later, my heart is just fine and the stress levels aren't worrying my doctor anymore. I have at least level 90 in every skill; and my blog, written as Merch Gwyar, has over 300k hits. It details my daily adventures in Gielinor.

I also discovered SuperMario and Tetris, but then, who hasn't?

One thing that I've learned about business, whether on-line or off-line, is that it's good to diversify.  If one venture sinks, another flies.  Your income streams go on.

Writing will always be my first love, but I can take photographs too.  I love traveling, particularly in my native Britain.  As I wander around, there will be the occasional article describing the things that I've seen.  More likely, there will be pictures.

They go into my Zazzle store: Beautiful Britain.  Call it another tributary to the great river of my on-line businesses.  One day we'll make it to the sea, and we'll be so rich.  Rich beyond my wildest dreams.  Rich to the point of actual making a livelihood in a recession.

You know, we can't go too wild now.

... let there be beauty and strength, power and compassion, honor and humility, mirth and reverence within you.

I first discovered Wicca when I was fifteen, but didn't do much about it until I was at university. I read a lot of books and tried to work out what it was all about. There's only so far that you can go with literature though, especially when it relates to a spirituality which resounds with the world around you.

I entered at the end of the 'Witch Wars', when the celebrated Doreen Valiente was verbally bashing heads together at the Pagan Federation Conference. Peace had just broken out and I was looking for someone (or some coven) to initiate me into the craft of the wise. Fortunately, given some of the idiots who could have pounced upon me, I met Huw.

In his beautiful Welsh accent, he answered every question burning in my brain. The first amongst them was, "How do I become a witch?"

Huw replied, "Do you feel like a witch?"  Of course I did. "Then you are one."

It's taken me nearly twenty years to realize the wisdom of that answer. At the time, I wanted ceremony and fireworks, the Goddess Herself appearing in the Heavens to personally welcome me into the Craft. I was very young.

Eventually, it was Huw who initiated me, in front of the Lady Wulfruna statue, on a moonlit night in Wolverhampton. That felt both ordinary and electrifyingly wonderful, all at the same time. I'd have preferred a stone circle or a hidden cavern, but the city center was there. Moreover, it was absolutely and brilliantly right.

In the years that passed, I met other people, joined different covens, worked alone and I made it through the ranks. I'm an Alexandrian High Priestess now.

Of course, I also encountered the politics and ego jostling that comes with a relatively new (or revived) religion that's growing so fast. I had people accusing me of not having the right credentials nor a decent Wiccan lineage.

It didn't bother me. My witchcraft comes from the Earth beneath my feet, the stars in the sky, the air in my lungs and all around me, and the fire of my passion (and cigarettes). Why try to attach a social ranking onto all of that? History has tried that in other religions and other hierarchies. It always ends in tears.

This attitude earned me the respect of Janet Farrar, who turned to me halfway down a road in Glastonbury and took my hand. Witnessed by Gavin Bone and Liz Williams, Janet initiated me there and then to the Third Degree of Alexandrian Wicca. My lineage therefore is: Alex Sanders, through Janet Farrar.

"And if anyone ever has a problem with your lineage again," Janet told me fiercely, "you just send them to me!"

I wouldn't mess with that. I don't know about you!

There is so much more that I could have said in my Wizzography. You could have heard about me playing drums, being an Amnesty International Urgent Cases activist, traveling where I can, organizing Holocaust memorial events, publishing a book, getting muddy each year at the Glastonbury Festival and a whole lot more.

But they are stories for another day.