Getting in the Creative Groove

When the well runs dry and the ideas won't flow, it's time to get out of your head. Really out of your head. I like walks. Rambling, long walks in places I haven't been. The point is to turn focus away from the critical voices yammering inside the skull. I play a game - looking for x number of things to see. Things to observe. From the macro - Some days there are great alpine glow photos. (Alpine glow on the Olympics here). To the micro - Some days it's nothing more than listening to the gentle cackle of a pair of crows courting one another in the trees. Or the little weird and wonderful things that happen closer to

home - like a seagull trying to make a snack out of something as big as it is. The point is to focus outward, to distract the ego enough that the creative juices have a chance to work in the background. For me, the more I try to pin creativity down with ego-driven critical YOU SHOULD BE <fill in the blank>, the more creativity squirms away, retreating into the dark. If I give the grasping, frenetic portion of my conscious mind something to do, creative stuff is then free to sneak back into the open. I favor walks because moderate physical exertion works wonders for shutting up monkey mind. So does journaling.
 

 In the bad old days before better living through chemistry made ironing work shirts a thing of the past, I would have my best writing breakthroughs while ironing (which I absolutely hated - ironing - not the ideas.) The task was mindless, but you had to pay attention so as not to burn down the house. Or permanently press your digits. Conscious mind got occupied with wrinkles. Creative mind churned in the background, kicking out little 'hey, what if' voices. The closest I get now, is through walking a couple of miles (which occupies the conscious mind) or via deliberate alpha state meditating.

Still. All of that can be a little naval gaze-y. And occasionally, the best option is to stopping focusing inward at all. The best kick in the creative pants comes from looking out at the world and observing. Mary Buckham, in the midst of teaching a plotting course, once said that it is a writers job to see what no one else can or will see and then bring that to the page. We concentrate so hard on getting things to the page, we forget all about being observers of our world - all of our world, not just the bits inside our heads. Which makes me think that maybe tomorrow morning, I'm due for a good, long walk.



Change Is Good. Right?

 

Solstice sunrise. We've left the dark behind. While news programs overflow with top 10 of 2014 lists, I'm counting something else entirely. The minute and a half (on average) per day of sunlight we're gaining at this latitude. At the equinox, that gain will increase, but for now, watching the light grow in tiny increments plays well with some of the changes I made to writing this year.

 

Marcella's list of how 2014 changed writing:

1. Changed genres - I'd been writing science fiction. In 2014, I wrote and sold two urban fantasies. This entailed going from leaner, more action oriented scifi to a denser, and, I hope, richer narrative voice. The UF meant more internal conflict. Not that external was lacking. It just leant itself to a little more angst. Then, near the end of this year, I changed genres yet again. It's possible that there's a secret joke amongst my crit partners and me - that we're going to rename me. 'Genre Assassin'. Has a terrible ring to it, doesn't it? Other authors assure me that it just feels like I'm single-handedly killing genres, but that I'm going to have to stand in line for that 'Genre Assassin' title because any number of writers got there long before me. I'm not sure I'm comforted. However. If there's a genre you'd like to see murdered in cold blood, hit me up. I'm payable in small, unmarked bills. Or tea. Nah. Not going to name the new genre yet. Don't want it dying of fright before I have a chance to maybe get a story sold.

2. Wrote faster - While on deadline, I wrote 2k per day on a very steady basis. However, my daily average for the year drops like a rock once I delivered Nightmare Ink and Bound by Ink. Trusting that the story would take care of itself, writing 2k per day for 5 days a week turned out to be remarkably sustainable. However. It does require prep work. Which leads to:

3. Classes - Mary Buckham teaches a plotting workshop over two intense days. I'd taken this class once before, but there's so much. There's a clear gap between seeing the material once and mastering the material. I had hoped I'd achieve mastery. What I achieved was a trilogy plotted over those two days. Mastery? Noooo. Maybe that only comes after I finish the final book in the trilogy?

 

I leave you with bright wishes for the holidays, however and whichever you celebrate. In my case, watching the light rise against the dark is the celebration. It's also the secret sauce in any creative endeavor: every tiny gain counts. When you can make tracks, do it. Write all the words. Pour the brain cells out on to the page. But when that's not possible, it's not the number of words that count. It's the consistency. Just like a tiny minute and a half per day gain adds up to summer days that are sixteen hours long in Seattle, a consistent, tiny effort at words every day will add up to a luxuriously long story. It's the basis for a practice like Jeffe's that allows a writer to begin playing challenge games with daily word counts. It gets you in shape for word count marathons. Not easy. But oh so rewarding.