Where is the juice? That drive which puts your fingers to the keyboard and soars you into that dream state of creativity? Where do you find it? Can you manufacture it? Can it be cultivated, grown, farmed, harvested?
Many writers have, and continue, to write on this subject, so why not me? I write every single day. Sometimes, as I’ve mentioned throughout the years, my writing is on life support. I key words, bland, banal, see-through, of no substance. Then, as if some magic ‘write switch’ gets flipped, something springs from my fingers and I think, “What the hell?”
“Did that really come from my mind? Did I actually stroke the right keys for once? What possessed me, and may I please have another?”
Ok, maybe you don’t have lunatic conversations with yourself about your writing. Too often, I’m of the opinion that writing about the struggles of writing is only symptomatic of continuing to struggle with the writing, creating a downward spiral writing vortex whose destruction is most felt on the page itself. Alright, that last sentence was another, “What the hell?” moment.
I will pretend what I wrote above contains some esoteric wisdom for writers (ever have to go to dictionary.com to make sure your word choice, which sounds so important and wise, actually fits the sentence…?). Seriously, I help so many people overcome their writing demons, I seem to inherit them all for my own personal writing dungeon of horrors.
So, this writing day, I’m looking at all the days of writing and observing far too many where my writing survives on life support and too few where my writing zips around in creative overdrive. I fight the same fight as all writers. Time, life, responsibilities, etc. I don’t lack for inspiration. Most writers inspire easily enough. Motivation? Ah, there’s the key, ain’t it?
How to motivate yourself to get off all your lame excuses (even if they sound awesome to other folk) and simply take an hour of your time and write. Something. Anything. Creative.
I agree with the writers who note that the act of writing is an act of self-exploration. We find out who we are when we measure ourselves to our dreams and ambitions. Because, once the excused get revealed for what they are, we no longer own fortified castle walls to deflect questions from others. More potently, questions from ourselves as to why we’re not writing our book. We must face ourselves, our reality, our inner persona, and we must win the day.
There’s an agreement within ourselves when we write. We all have those voices, right? Well, I hope so, otherwise I’m getting carted off tomorrow when this posts… We have those folks inside us, tempting us, berating us, wooing us, to do anything but write. Don’t give me that crap about being busy. I’m busier than most people I know and I still manage to knock out 30,000 words a month on 750words.com, not to mention other writing I do.
I crave Creative Overdrive. CO. The Big Writing Kahuna. I dream of words, splayed across pages in my wacked out manner – with readers actually understanding what I’m saying. I want the connection, albeit not face to face, between myself and a devourer of words otherwise known as a reader. I live for someone to enter my world and share my insanities put out in word pictures.
Creative Overdrive. I’m good with this non fiction stuff. Crazy fingers simply lash out my frustrations and these labelled keys and blog posts with largely make sense spill out. Ahhh, but my fiction writing. That which spurred me to begin this writing quest way back when. Fiction lies as my lovely albatross, ever in the wings beckoning. Whispering come hither siren songs.
And there she is. My muse. Pretty as you please, winking at me, knowing in 45 minutes I must be somewhere for the rest of the evening. Fickle, fickle, fickle.
I’ll fool her this time. Motivation calls. Warm your fingers up. Get your mind tuned in. Engage your heart. Motivate yourself to write. Make that agreement with all your inner voices to kick into Creative Overdrive.