These words aren’t really for you. Sorry about that. I know they should be. That’s the whole point, isn’t it? Write some words, share them, listen to what folk say about them, bask in the nice comments, try and learn from criticisms without falling into the depths of despair, then write some more.
And yet.
These words are for me. Selfish, I know, but I’m the one person who really needs to hear them. You see, I’m a writer who just happens to not be writing very much at the moment and that is making me anxious. I know, I know, every week I manage to produce our newsletter. Some writing is involved. But that is not the writing I’m talking about. This is about the creative process. The beginning, middle and end of things. What we are looking at here is the journey from blank pages to well-crafted musings; this is not a journey I have set out on recently.
I could, I suppose, waste a lot of time thinking through why I haven’t been writing. I could ponder the constraining conditions. Precious time would tick by as I list all the reasons why the words are dammed, time that might be better spent just letting new words flow.
There have been times when writing has been easy. Not so long ago, using an incidental occasion as the trigger, I set out to capture thoughts and ideas in 55 Words (for 55 days to celebrate a 55th birthday). The ‘constraints’ were freeing. Limitations offered a license to roam. The 55 days flew by, words filled the page. Ideas emerged so easily that I was always several days ahead in my creativity. So, structure, a timetable, a limited word count; they all work for me.
Fast forward a couple of years and the notion of ‘100 Words/100 Days’ wormed into my imagination. The ‘100 word’ part of the challenge worked perfectly. Something about the need to hone things precisely works for me - like those writing competitions that demand a short story of 400 words; I love the need to finesse language into ‘right-sized’ contributions. Even as I write that, I am thinking back to school comprehension tests and the need to précis, which I loved.
Coincident with my ‘100 Words/100 days’, I stumbled serendipitously into #2badpagesaday a challenge championed by writer Fiona Melrose over on Twitter. It turned into the perfect approach for the cautious, under-confident writer in me. I mean, who can’t write ‘bad pages’? A craving for ‘good’ pages becomes a barrier in itself; it becomes a reason not to write. But ‘bad pages’, that’s literally no problem at all. Stream of unconsciousness … here you go. Word dump … I’ve got that covered. Unedited prose … let’s get that written. Every day for 80 days I turned up and turned out my 2 bad pages. Along the way, the ‘100 words’ challenge foundered on the rocks of insufficient capacity. It ended, ironically, with a 100-word celebration of #2badpagesaday. But, 80 days of 2 bad pages and I have a manuscript for a dystopian ‘novel’. As Stephen King noted “to edit is divine”. I await the arrival of my godlike powers.
Talking of word counts, I tested the water by working to one for an entry to the Welkin Writing Prize. Using a piece of artwork as a writing prompt, I found a fresh way to trigger my creativity. Although I didn’t make the Long List, Short List, or Winner’s Podium, at least I entered. The accountability was good for me.
Barrie I feel for you. There was a time when I thought I would be a writer, I love the process and could scribble stream of consciousness with no trouble but when I came to formalise my writing I froze, I was deeply triggered and felt ill. I felt like someone with something to say but no means of saying it only feeling it, so I splashed paint and colours around instead. I explore now, without expectation, a kindness to myself!
I read of wonderful writers, great storytellers who sit and write every day at least X number of words or for X hours. Terry Pratchett wrote without judgement anything, from lists to pretend newspaper articles (he was a journalist) knowing that sooner or later some gem would tumble out of those words. His judgement kicked in when he was crafting something specific.
The ability to play with words is beautiful, and if you can combine it with playing with ideas too then it’s even better. You have such a way with both, so maybe for a while set your target (time or words) and be random about your subject matter (scour newspapers, local news sheets, social media posts, writing prompts) and play. Play with the serious, the funny, the bizarre, the sublime and always be curious.
Paul Gallico was a hard nosed sports journalist, very gruff and grizzly, but his novels are the complete opposite. They are full of poignancy and magic. Maybe write for Olivia for a time, find the magic in her world?
You’ve got this, you just have to jump off that cliff to find out if the wings are working, they will be! I look forward to finding out where unleashing your curiosity takes you! ❤️