"Creativity: Spinning rainbows out of ashes."
"Inspiration: The divine reaching down and smacking you with a gold platter."
All written by me. And all in moments of peak frustration.
Writer's block is something that writers talk about hitting for a certain period of time. Going months, possibly even years without writing a single word. It's a phenomena that we don't understand, being unable to strike a key or splash ink on a page without cringing at the very sight of it. Anyone who declares themselves of the writing persuasion has felt this curse. I think it hits me about once a week, if not daily.
Frustrations mount in this art. You look at these words, these meaningless words, and think that your work is nothing more than refuse. Where is the spark, that inspiration that drove you to the page? Where are the words that just sing through your mind? Shakespeare did it, Dickens did it, Fitzgerald did it, and with words that I'm supposedly using. So why does everything fall flat?
Here's a collective message for all writers out there: your best work will look like your childhood scribbles. It will never get better, and generally get so much worse as time passes. Your familiarity, your knowledge of the entirety of the work will make every word seem like it was plucked from the bottom of the creative barrel. Words that may be splendorous to the populace, will seem passing to your eyes. And the frustrations will mount.
We do run out of creative thoughts. I'm not going to lie and say the well within ourselves will never run dry. It shall, and we shall continue writing, and it will be terrible. But too often we do not draw deep enough, do not go far enough, because for the most part our writings will go unread, our thoughts unspoken, and our dreams unfulfilled.
For any reading this not writing, or performing, or creating, please understand that what you see of our creative selves is the barest sliver of our being. We try desperately to hide our thoughts as we fling them through the air, hoping that only the best will sail away. Most writers live in the constant fear that the entirety of their thoughts will be published, will be read by the world. And that is a darkness, real or imagined, that we perceive in ourselves. That is why many have writers' block.
There's a problem, and it has been identified. Great, what's the solution? What is the curative for this self-inflicted wound? Simple: being. Talking. Doing. In a word: verbs.
Verbs are the lifeblood of creativity. Actions, life, the lifeblood of creativity are all described in verbs. Going out with friends. Getting so drunk you fall over. Walking reading playing talking praying laughing weeping living. These verbs fill us with experiences, with emotions that we can translate into thought and beauty. Just go out there and live, in whatever way your please.
My goal each day is simple. Write five hundred words a day, of something. Today, I've succeeded. Tomorrow, maybe not. But every day needs verbs that do not start with sleep, or eat, or watch. Writing is a by-product of life, and enhances its cause to the fullest effect. Writing is life's grace.
Hmmm...I think this might actually have some merit.
Stay strange, folks
