When I’m writing my creative process looks like this…
1.) First, the inspiration. I get what seems like a genius idea to explore something or another. Then I hook up to wherever this stuff actually comes from and begin the process of downloading words and phrases and sometimes whole pages, courtesy of my muse.
2.) When that is flowing it’s pure bliss. Invariably, however, there are the stops and starts and expectations and what feels like dead ends. And then, of course, panic.
Gotta have the panic.
3.) Once I get enough of these words and paragraphs and pages I have to do something with them. Unfortunately, my muse is not much of an editor and she doesn’t know how to organize things very well. It’s kind of like she took a box of puzzle pieces and dumped them on the floor and now I now have to arrange them into some coherent form.
4.) AAAARGH!! Frustration, paralysis and more panic. I start the process of picking up those pieces and trying to figure out how they fit together.
5.) It seems impossible. I don’t know why I ever started this stupid project anyway. I keep at it because I am stubborn and compulsive and more than a little wacky.
6.) It takes way longer than I want it to.
7.) But then….. the miracle happens. The puzzle pieces come together and make a whole. It’s complete. And it’s not half bad
8.) And then, because I am a creativity fanatic ( see above) I can’t wait to start the whole damn cycle all over again.
I feel the same thing when I get into the creative flow … it doesn’t need editing, doesn’t respond kindly to it. It is almost as if the text produced is a living, breathing entity, with it’s own rhythms and spellings.
This is so awesome. It’s like you’ve been in my office with me when I’m writing and gnashing my teeth and banging my head on my desk. I often wonder why I continue to do something that is so painful and difficult 90% of the time I’m doing it! (sigh.) I guess the other 10% must feel pretty great … :)