Showing posts with label writers block. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writers block. Show all posts

Monday, 17 December 2012

"Realise the universality of your fears"

Despite a fairly prolific seven months of writing earlier this year - and by prolific, I mean two-posts-a-month prolific - I appear to have well and truly hit a creative wall. A wall the likes of which would give the Great Wall of China a run for its money, if only the Creative Wall's builders would stop their existential moaning about the consistency of the cement not being a true reflection of their vision, and lay the first damn brick. 

The last two posts on this blog were rehashes of pieces I'd written in another time and another place. I'd like to pretend that the Wall doesn't really exist, because in the last few months I've written My First Short Story goddamnit, a 5,000 word article, as well as a poor attempt at making some words rhyme, and some even poorer attempts at editing and proofreading.

Alas, three months in to the careful construction of my Creative Wall, I think I need to retreat from my denial, and face this thing head-on before it becomes out of hand. Bar the short story, none of the above attempts truly count as 'writing', in my mind.

And so, first things first, for all those who want to, dabble in, or live their lives writing, painting, drawing, musicianing, crafting, and otherwise creating, I want to share a picture that one of my brothers created earlier this year as part of his 'One Picture A Day' series:


That's right. Whatever your medium, whether it be programming, playing with words, playing with paint, with buildings (but not with yourself), we all have our fears. I've discussed this with my brothers, friends, and I'm pretty sure a few strangers thrown in for good measure. And no matter the output, there is a very real fear that seems to be tagged on to anything that involves taking your mess of thoughts and ideas and turning them into something that represents those thoughts to yourself and others.

In fact, the fear seems to begin even before the point of creation. It's having the thoughts that you think are worth expressing in the first place.

At the start of this year and throughout the summer, my thoughts were sparking in all directions. I could have ten ideas to write about in the time it took for the thought to ignite.

During the last few months, my mind appears to have become somewhat of a wasteland. What's changed? Why aren't I sparking ideas left, right and centre?

I think it has something partly to do with the fact that my 'pool' of resources on which I can draw to mix 'n' match to create new thoughts and connections has not only dwindled in the last few months, but my critical engagement with those resources has become distinctly gormless. Some of you may know what I'm referring to here. It's the idea that nothing is new, but more new combinations of thoughts and creations that have come before you. We draw our influences from anywhere and everywhere. The more varied sources you have at your fingertips, the more likely it is that you're going to create new connections between them. Whilst I've been reading and trying new things (still on the graphic novels, ladies and gents, as well as a whole host of other films and shows that I would not normally have watched), I appear to have stopped thinking about what I'm reading, and making those connections that normally come quite naturally.

My attention span to finish a book has become non-existent, the happy aimless wandering that I advocate has stopped. I'd quite like to achieve the holy grail of human hibernation, and not need to have an intelligent thought until the sun deems to grace us with its presence again.

There's a fear that if and when I start writing, it will never be good enough, won't be as good as things I've managed to write in the past. Yes, I've written as part of a private work blog I keep, I've written the things mentioned at the start of this post. But I've not truly had that moment that makes me feel the need to grab my laptop or a pen and truly enjoy crafting a piece of writing.

And herein lies the golden nugget of truth behind our fears - the belief that everything we create needs to be gold, and that it will be gold without any practice or pain or hard work. But that's just not the case. As this post from one of my brothers says, we need to recognise the pencilled construction lines that sit beneath the finished piece we often see, the many false starts, the iterations that the pieces have been through. As my other brother's work ethic shows, you don't become a brilliant musician without putting in the hours. Others have said the same thing, and I keep coming back to this post I came across last year called Talker's Block, or this more recent piece from ThoughtCatalog, which act as reminders that writing isn't perfect straight away, but that this shouldn't be a reason not to write.

All of us are writers, in a way that not all of us are musicians, or artists. We all craft our little Facebook statuses, or write emails to friends and colleagues. We don't get writer's block when we write these. And yet for those of us that enjoy writing longer, or more 'creative' or 'thoughtful' pieces, or crafting a story, as soon as it comes to putting cursor to screen or pen to paper, we often freeze.

And so, at the end of this rambling piece, the best I can say to those with 'the fear' (and by "us", I mean "me". I've got my own problems to deal with without worrying about your creative block as well), is practice in private first if you're fearful of practicing in public. Do what my bothers do, which is practice their craft every day. It won't be perfect every time, but don't be afraid of failing or mistakes - it's how you improve. For writers, a private blog or handwritten diary to yourself will break down the wall. Just write. Create. Be bad.

And if this awful piece of writing can't get you going, here's some links to what other people have said and written that I've collected over the last year. And why not go ahead and share your own fears, your own antidotes at the bottom of this piece. Recognise the universality of your fears.

A 5-Step Technique for Producing Ideas










And finally, this brilliant video from Neil Gaiman:


Tuesday, 9 October 2012

Revolution on hold

There's nothing like a touch of writer's block to make you realise that those dreams you harbour of retreating to a remote beach to spend your days writing great tomes that inspire people all around the world, and raking in the pounds off the back of it, are possibly a tad misjudged.

As the days and then weeks pass, you find yourself justifying the fact that you appear to be building up an impressive collection of untouched ideas and half-started stories. What's that? No, I couldn't possibly sit down to write now. I mean, Arsenal's on the television. And it's been a long day at work. And that pile of freshly-bought books that's accumulating by my bed isn't going to read itself you know. How could you even think to suggest that I take the time to write?! How irresponsible! How naive!

You begin to read back over the lucky pieces that held your attention long enough to be finished. You marvel, wondering who it was exactly that was inspired enough to pick up that pen and write, as it certainly couldn't have been you.

And so, whilst my writer's block fights the good fight, here's a little something that I wrote a few months back that I'm sharing now to try maintain the facade that I'm a budding authoress just waiting to be discovered and plucked out of obscurity. Now if you'd excuse me, I need to return to the book I'm forcing myself to finish.

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Ah the beauty of the manifesto. Such a simple and yet powerful tool. For those that find themselves to be of a creative disposition (that’s right, I’m referring to you), there’s some particularly goosebump-inducing ones around at the moment. With many of them,you’ll surface in the real world only to realise that, in the four minutes it’s taken you to read the piece, you’ve somehow decided to become a Beat writer in the style of Jack Kerouac, or joined a community of ukulele players, or started to make jewellery out of discarded toenail clippings.

They have the ability to make you question everything you thought you believed in. You’ll find yourself nodding along emphatically in unison with the lyrical genius that assembled the words, who could only have had a root around in your subconscious whilst you were looking the other way wondering what to eat for dinner.

By way of illustration, here’s a few that I’ve come across in my travels that made me realise that I’ve clearly been living my life in entirely the wrong way; that I need to reject my current lifestyle, and take up a life of whim, spontaneity, and other related synonyms:

The Holstee Manifesto

The Incomplete Manifesto for Growth

The Right Brain Manifesto

And then, whilst on a plane hurtling towards a week of sunshine and relaxation – after writing a somewhat pretentious and ranting monologue about the absence of curiosity in some people – I found myself writing my own non-manifesto, aimed at touting the joy of being a little ‘intense’ once in a while. Oh yes. I may not have the ability to design an achingly beautiful poster, but I shall fell empires with the truth of my pen. Artists! Writers! Office workers! Milkmen! Viva la revolution!

What makes you happy?

What do you find beautiful?

What inspires you?

Who inspires you?

How do you best express yourself?

What do you enjoy creating?

What do you question?

Do you ask people what they think and feel? Do you listen to their answers?

Do you question yourself? What excites you, what scares you?

When was the last time you spoke about ideas instead of the weather or what you did over the weekend?

How do you feel when someone questions what you’ve said?

Do you ever let your mind wander and ponder?

Do you ever verbalise, picturise, musicise, or writicise your wanderings and ponderings?

What do you think about life, the universe and everything?

How do you feel about intensity of conversation, intensity of thought, intensity of connection with another person?

How do you interpret the world around you, the things you see, the things you hear?

Are you still learning? Who from, what from, how?

Does what you learn excite you, do you ever want to share it, talk about it? Does it ever make you realise how much more you have to learn?

Are you open to new ideas, to being inspired, to questioning, to expressing, creating, to making mistakes, to acknowledging what makes you happy, to not answering these questions but to using them as a way of looking beneath and beyond that which you see?

Are you human? Are you reflective? Are you unique? Are you afraid of being judged?

Are you machine?

Can you think for yourself?

Are you looking for a manifesto?

This is not a manifesto.

Write your own manifesto.