The Connection
or
(How I Write)
First of All…
My approach to writing has much less to do with mechanics than with intuition, spirit, and a sense of connection to the process of creativity. Throughout this piece, I will attempt to link process to product – rather, I will try to EXPOSE the links that exist between them. Balance is essential in the approach of any creative endeavor. Without a sense of balance, we do our art a disservice.
Of course, not everything that works for me will work for everyone. But what would be the point of omitting something that works for me when it just may work for someone who reads this piece?
There are dozens of works that have influenced my choices in writing. Some of these things may work for me today and may not tomorrow. Still, I’ve listed the works that come immediately to mind at the end of this piece. Within this piece, I will examine a few of them closely and I will attempt to connect the inner work with the physical work necessary to bring art OUT.
Borrowing from Julia Cameron…
The Artist’s Way came to me at a time in my life when I had no idea that I was ready for a “major growth experience.” I had moved to Los Angeles, alone, with no job, and immediately connected with a popular actor through a volunteer mentoring program. The week after I began working with the kids, my new friend created a group called “The Artist’s Circle” for the purpose of conducting weekly sessions as suggested in Julia Cameron’s book. I eagerly joined in, ready to have a sense of “home”, wherever I could find it. I had no idea what I was getting into, but I had TRUST.
Here it is, two-and-a-half years later, and I am still growing from having opened this wonderful book. It is not my intention to simply quote Julia Cameron, but I would like to devote this section to a few of the “highlights” from her book (Quotes, Unblocking the Artist, and Exercises). Were I teaching a course on creative writing, photography, acting, or any other creative process, The Artist’s Way would be required reading.
It is easy to dismiss “self-help” techniques as elements not connected to being a writer. The tough part is recognizing that, until we are connected to our truest creativity, we will not do our best work. Self-help has EVERYTHING to do with the process of tapping into your creative energy.
Quotes…
“Leap, and the net will appear.” It takes having the faith to put pen to paper, to read your work aloud, to submit to journals in order to see that you WERE safe in taking that step. It won’t look safe until you’ve done it. And even then, sometimes, you’ll wonder how you did it. Don’t question – just do.
“Stop waiting until you make enough money to do something you really love.” As artists, we con ourselves into believing that we can’t afford to “do art” full-time until we’ve made enough money some other way. We act as if we have to earn the right to devote a good deal of time to creativity. This is not the case. We simply have to begin – money or no money. We’ll wait forever, otherwise.
“Creativity is the only cure for criticism.” Feed criticism with more time for your art; not with the intention of “fixing” what was criticized, but with the goal of healing.
“Expect the universe to support your dream. It will.” That’s what the universe does: supports our dreams. When we expect less, that’s what we get. When we open ourselves up to prosperity (not by our means – but by those we cannot see), we are more creative… because we are freed from thoughts of financial or worldly success.
“Do not fear mistakes. There are none.” (Miles Davis) When we carry around fear, it blocks our creativity. Additionally, it’s often the “mistake” that turns out to be the most wonderful part of our finished work.
“Do not call procrastination laziness. Call it fear.” That’s what it is. Fear of failure, fear of success. We procrastinate when we want perfection. We’ll be able to say, if our work isn’t “perfect”, that it would’ve been, given more time. Wrong. “Perfect” never happens – so stop fearing work that isn’t perfect.
Enthusiasm: from the Greek ‘filled with God.’ When we enthusiastically take on a task, we are not alone in undertaking it.
Unblocking the Artist…
Nurturing Friends vs. Enabling Friends. There are friends who nurture us and there are friends who keep us needy. Know the difference. Understand your choices. You won’t always choose to stay away from non-nurturing friends. That’s okay. Just recognize the choices, and know how they impact upon your creativity.
What’s the pay off in being stuck? What’s your favorite creative block? There are benefits to being creatively stuck. We all have blocks to our creativity. When we recognize that we are safe when we’re not successful artists, that we are happy with actually having some measure of control over where we are – something that we may lose if we let others determine our worth through actually buying our work – we begin to understand the risk involved in tapping into pure creativity. Yes, it’s scary. Allow it to be. Move on into it anyway. Back away when necessary. Recognize that you need the block’s warmth and safety sometimes, but know when to risk again.
Boundary-setting. Oh, this one is tough. But, boy, is it important! When you neglect setting boundaries within which your artist can comfortably work, you negate her importance. You tell her that taking care of others, dealing with business, and working hard is more important than creating. You neglect MAKING time (and yes, you have to MAKE time; FINDING it is impossible) for the artist and she neglects her process. Set boundaries so that she can breathe. You’re not taking yourself seriously if you don’t make time for yourself to create. Just making decisions about what really matters to you is freeing. It means you care enough about yourself to take an interest in what’s best for you. What a concept!
Exercises…
Image collection. Cut apart magazine images that you find comfort in. If you want a new typewriter, find an image of it. Cut it out and add it to your collection. The images can be of things you want your art to bring you (fame, fortune, material goods), things you need to nurture your artist, or simply things that please you. Visualization is a powerful tool. Create a collage for motivation. Perhaps even construct the worlds you write about with images. You may see something in the images you select that you hadn’t imagined on your own.
Create an Artist Totem for yourself. Mine is a totem of runes. The Viking Runes, for me, carry powerful messages and are visually easy to remember. My totem symbolizes Self (Higher Self and personal self), The Journey (of life), and Wholeness (a sense of connectedness with the process). Touchstones are nice in that you have a little something to hold that reminds you of your process, your Journey.
Create a Life Pie. Divide it equally into these segments: Spirituality, Exercise, Play, Work, Friends, Romance/Adventure. Place a dot in each slice that indicates the extent to which you are fulfilled: Outer Circle = Great, Inner Circle = Not So Great. Where are you balanced? Where are you lopsided? When you are out-of-balance in any area of your life, your writing suffers. Recreate this Life Pie every now and then to see the impact simply paying attention to yourself has on your sense of balance.
Rearrange your furniture. This can be a great way to remove creative blocks. Try it!
Savor silence.
Applying Spirit to the Mechanics…
In an attempt to connect the process to the product, I often “exercise” my artist. I have selected specific exercises from What If? By Anne Bernays and Pamela Painter that, in addition to those in The Practice of Poetry by Robin Behn and Chase Twichell, provide a regular “workout” for me as a writer. Additionally, I have included personal “hybrid” exercises that have, in a sense, discovered ME.
I do not suggest that writers do these exercises INSTEAD of writing, but that, when the work just isn’t flowing, these exercises can serve as a way of “kick-starting” the artist within.
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“Mining Memory” – For a week, write down ten things that make you angry, but don’t try to explain why. In that same week, do the same for ten things that please you. Be very specific. This serves as creating a way of viewing your immediate world as a “garden full of fictional seeds.” I find that the act of NOT explaining what made me angry or happy requires restraint on my part that I usually do not exert. I like to give an awful lot away. This exercise helps me hold some things back and so proves to me that the images themselves are often enough.
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“Journal Keeping for Writers” – Write one page a day, playing around with format.
* Concentrate on observation and description, not feeling.
* Do not use the verb TO BE. By avoiding its use, you’ll choose more interesting verbs. You’ll also be more accurate.
* Experiment with sentence length. Keep the journal for a week using sentences of ten words or less. Then, for a week, try writing each day’s account in a single sentence, avoiding the use of “and”.
* Switch your journal to third person. Then, try mixing the point of view. Start the day in third person and switch into first person to comment on the action.
* Use an accent.
* Write in baby talk.
* Make lists for journal entries – just a record of the nouns of that day.
This exercise is great fun. It makes me smile just to fantasize about keeping my journal in a DIFFERENT way. When I actually DO it, I find all sorts of interesting ways of saying things. This helps me “get out of my own head” about things.
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“Five Different Versions: And Not One is a Lie” – How we tell a story is determined by who we are telling the story to. We add, subtract, exaggerate, play down, tolerate, condemn, and so on, based on our audience. Write an account of a specific situation.
A Sample: You have come out of the movie theatre around seven in the evening and you are mugged. Your money is demanded and you are knocked to the ground as the mugger runs away.
Tell your account of this event to five different people (your mother, your best friend, your significant other, your therapist, a police officer, your child, a priest, a doctor, a lawyer, a judge, a talk-show host, your astrologer, an old college buddy you haven’t seen in years, etc.). Compare the stories and notice how you shape and shade the stories you tell based on who’s listening, what you want them to hear, and the response you want. This exercise is good for strengthening dialog. The next time a character shares something with another, remember this exercise. Dialog is telling.
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“The Enemy’s Life”
Week One: Write a scene that brings to fictional life someone you hate. Make the reader hate her. It might be someone who annoys you, whose manner you can’t stand, whose voice grates on you, someone who has offended you or done you some harm. Take on someone who is evil on the grand scale. It can be someone you know, someone you know about, or someone based in history.
Week Two: Write the same scene from the point of view of this person, and write it in the first person. “Story and only story is the peaceable kingdom where you and I and the next fellow can lie down on the same page with one another, not by wiping our differences out, but by creating our differences on the page. Only on the page of a story can I look out of your and my and the other fellow’s eyes all at the same time.”
Spending the week between assignments is important. The first week’s assignment is really fun when you’re trying to get out of your anger or frustration with someone who has pissed you off! The second weeks’ assignment is difficult, because you begin to understand the nasty character… perhaps even better than you wanted to. What’s great, though, is that you really do round out that character. In acting classes, I’ve learned that there are no true “bad guys”. Even the most evil character we can imagine has, in his or her heart and mind, a positive justification for his or her actions and choices. This exercise is a good reminder of that aspect. The easy choice is the ruthless monster. The difficult one is the honest character.
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Clustering: Gabrielle Lusser Rico’s technique from Writing the Natural Way asks that we place one word in the center of a page, use stream of consciousness to come up with the surrounding words, and let that free-association provide a theme or story. The right side of the brain gets “kick-started” this way. Use a few of the elements to create a story. You’ll really feel that you are in the element after spiraling words around a page.
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Do an interview with your characters. I learned this from countless acting coaches. If you have a block that keeps you from understanding a character with all of the intimacy necessary for a complete story, interview him. Without any of the author’s judgments or agenda in tow, ask the character about his history. Ask what brings him to the point at which he enters your story. Take notes as if you are on an ethnographic field study. Notice the richness of the language the character uses. Study the subtleties. Then wait. After about a week, go back and read the original story. How much better do you know the character? Now let the reader in on that growth. You do not need to reveal anything from the interview itself. Don’t push; just add in the subtle understanding you’ve gained.
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From The Tao of Pooh…
This poem means a lot to me when my work is criticized for not “measuring up” to certain standards that academics have created. Writing, FOR ME, is a form of personal therapy. I do not write to please others. But, lo and behold, occasionally I do please them. I get published, I win prizes, I gain recognition. So, to all the artists who feel obligated to adhere to rules that go against their inner voice, I quote Benjamin Hoff. “There is more to Knowing than just being correct.”
A scholar named Wang
Laughed at my poems.
The accents are wrong,
He said,
Too many beats;
The meter is poor,
The wording impulsive.
I laugh at his poems,
As he laughs at mine.
They read like
The words of a blind man
Describing the sun.
– Han-shan
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What Works for Me…
After reading the “Nuts and Bolts” section in Richard Hugo’s The Triggering Town, I’ve decided to word these tips as rules and state, as Hugo does, “I find the axiomatic tone preferable to a lot of qualifiers. If these work for you, good.”
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Be aware of what you say to yourself about being a writer for a week or so. On one half of a sheet of paper, write down the negative things. Counteract each of those messages on the other half of the page. You’ll be amazed at the amount of negative self-talk you actually engage in, where your creativity is concerned.
Be silly. You owe it to yourself to play. How else can you truly understand characters who take the risks that academe prevents us from taking?
Creativity dies when you dangle a carrot in front of yourself. Do not feel as if you’ll only be rewarded when you are creative enough. Recognize that creativity IS the reward.
Don’t feel that anything isn’t worth writing down. You may write something, put it away, forget all about it, and then come across it years later, only to find that it is exactly what is missing in a piece you’re currently working on. You just weren’t ready for the entire story when you began.
Drink hot tea. With honey. It soothes the soul.
Eat what you want, when you want it. When you are writing, if you deny yourself the little things you crave, you will resist the messages coming to you from your subconscious. That’s where our cravings AND our artistic impulses lie. Don’t stifle that voice. Ever.
Explore minutiae. Details, details, details. They mean so much.
Fictionalize reality. Your best friend shares a story with you that has you rolling with laughter. Write it down. Cut out the stuff that’s boring. Add details that were left out or that didn’t exist. Give the true story as much as it needs to “click”. Take a small notebook with you everywhere you go. You’ll never know when a story’s waiting for you to find it.
Find inspiration in everything. When a classmate questioned my inclusion of Richard Bach’s Illusions on my reading list for this project, I was surprised. I thought that every writer, every artist, found inspiration in just about everything! No, the book doesn’t include any tips on writing – not any that are spelled out as such. But, the book does provide lines such as, “The river delights to lift us free, if only we dare let go. Our true work is this voyage, this adventure.” For me, that line alone frees me from the everyday quests that dictate how life is lived for most people… and for me… most of the time. A reminder that the joy of living, writing, BEING is in the process – not the product – boosts my creativity (and, HEY! I end up with a product to boot).
Get “out there” what’s in you. Share your writing with others. Get feedback. Take only SOME of it seriously. Some feedback is just plain destructive. Even when a group is assembled for the purpose of providing constructive criticism, personality conflicts, jealousy, and competition creep in from time to time. Create a personal “filter” for what is constructive and what is destructive, and give credibility to the feedback accordingly. Try not to take things personally, even when you want to scream, “Hey! That’s my baby you’re talking about!” Scream that out at home later.
Habits are “economical” to our energy, to our conscious and mental processes. That’s why we often choose habits rather than getting creative. Economize in wording, not in choice making. It’s when we have to work, not choose the obvious solution, that we are creating something.
Have a favorite pen. Don’t be afraid to use it. NEVER loan it out.
Keep a pen and paper next to your bed. Write down dreams that wake you up, ideas that pop into your head during the night. Even though you assure yourself you’ll remember them in the morning, write the thoughts down right then. That’s the only way to maintain the lush details of dreams and images.
Keep away from Poisonous Playmates. Julia Cameron devotes a good deal of The Artist’s Way to the ways in which we sabotage our inner artist. One big way is to surround ourselves with people who deplete our energy, friends who look fun to be around but then fill our heads with doubts about our potential. The more positive, life-affirming energy around us, the stronger our artist becomes.
Let the reader taste all of the ingredients in your piece without revealing the recipe you used.
Let your cat lie on top of your work-in-progress. He knows when you need a break from seeing your piece.
Listen to classical music. Its rhythms are inspiring (as is the fact that most of it was composed by men who were much younger than I am now).
Listen to NPR. For me, National Public Radio reminds me that, simply put, the world is a very big place. “Americans” forget that anyone else exists (just look at the term “Americans”, hijacked by residents of the United States to refer to them and them alone). NPR also reminds me that there are other ways of speaking. The British accents and sentence structure in the BBC reports get me imagining new possibilities for my characters now and then.
Look at artwork. See writing as creating a work of art and realize what a huge contribution you’re making to the world’s art collection. Then, deflate your ego and get back to work. It’s important enough to put down on paper, but you’re NEVER finished.
Maintain enough sanity to function in the real world while being true to the artist. Creation requires just a bit of insanity. The imagination necessary to create entire worlds for people who do not exist (and ones the reader believe COULD exist) is staggering. See everything as a possible story and only come down from that state of mind when absolutely necessary.
Meditate. If it’s tough for you to meditate, just see meditation as the sun going down. The stars are always out, but we can’t see them until the sun goes down. Don’t apply pressure to see the stars. They’re there. Just wait to see them. Then use the relaxed state you’ve found as a source for more creativity.
Never compare your work to anyone else’s. You are where you are. They are where they are.
Pet the cat. Remember that your characters need sensory details, just like you do.
Play with toys. If you didn’t save any from your childhood, go out and buy a few. Spending several minutes with my Bubbaloons gives me hours of renewed creativity.
Read everything aloud. For me, this exercise sometimes gets me in the bind of writing only for the stage or screen. Still, I even read academic pieces aloud. It’s the only way that I can be certain that I am saying what I have intended to say. From there, I can work on the voice.
Read journals from years ago. “Keep a journal” is not on my list because I really don’t know any artistic person who doesn’t already keep one. I have found, in perusing old journals, material for plot, characters, and deeper understanding of a situation that one of my characters is experiencing. It’s a rich resource.
Read others’ works. And not always the same “other”.
See everything as foreign. If you have not experienced foreign travel, think of a place that you have visited in which everything was different from what you have experienced on a daily basis. Begin to see things in your daily life in the same way that you took in those strange things on your journey. It’s more than perception, it’s a feeling. Use that feeling to create a sense of wonder for things that your characters experience for the first time.
Shut up the censor. Julia Cameron suggests “Morning Pages” as the best way to do this. When we roll out of bed and force ourselves to create three, hand-written, stream-of-consciousness pages of whatever, we keep the censor (left-brain) from coming alive. It figures, “Well, she’s up to her foolishness again. I can roll over and go back to sleep.” When you go back to these pages, you’ll be amazed by how creative you can be when your censor is asleep. Speed kills the censor. Don’t let your pen leave the page once you begin.
Sing. Along with the radio, your favorite album, in the shower, in the car, while walking along, whatever. You may just write something… or understand one of your characters better. Know that being creative carries a good deal of overlap with it. Rarely are we artists in one sense of the word only.
Sketch. Again, don’t let the censor have anything to do with what you create. Just enjoy the feeling of the charcoal, pastel, pencil dragging across the paper.
Stop writing for a minute. Breathe. Look around. Begin again.
Submit pieces to literary journals and make wallpaper out of your rejection letters. Remember that it only takes one hit out of every four at-bats to make it into the Hall of Fame.
Tag “in the past” to any statements of criticism that you feel compelled to dish out to yourself. Remember that you are LEARNING, always, and that “I can’t write poetry,” is not a constructive statement in any way.
Take “Artist Dates”. This is another of Julia Cameron’s suggestions. Once a week, do something really childish and creative. Finger paint. Go to a children’s museum (Sci-Trek in Atlanta is great). Fly a kite that you made from scratch. Bake something (even if, like me, you’re not quite sure how to work that room where the oven is). Send homemade postcards to old friends just to say hello. Jump rope. This self-nourishing exercise reminds us that our artist is delicate and needs plenty of these nurturing dates to feel safe in exposing herself to us.
Take naps. They recharge the soul.
Tape-record yourself while you drive. I didn’t realize until I had to make the drive (in legendary LA traffic) from Hollywood to Universal City for my UCLA creative writing night class that there’s a good deal of wasted time spent on the road. Usually, I drive aggressively, commenting on the etiquette of other drivers or attempting to be “first” in the suddenly fast-moving lane. When I began taking a hand-held micro-cassette recorder on my longer trips, I found myself using the time to create characters, scenarios, or to have a “therapy session” on my own. Great way to flesh out some ideas!
Think you’re crazy; it frees up what you’ll allow yourself to put down on paper. Nothing’s too absurd to commit to paper when you’re just plain nuts.
Treat yourself like a precious object. The more you cherish yourself, the better you treat yourself, the better your work.
Try to embrace the pendulum’s swing. Enjoy both extremes, but work on capturing the motion of the object. Process. Understanding the process is the essential element to getting the best out of your extremes.
Turn off the phone. Who can write when they’re busy tending to the rest of the world?
Turn people’s quirks into characters. Everything is material.
Write every day.
Write fast, edit slowly.
Write stuff that’s really funny. Then write stuff that’s tragic.
Write stuff you’ll never share with anyone. Ever.
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Lastly, for Now…
Writing is a natural thing. Writing well takes practice. Writing from the soul requires balance, attention, and patience.
When you are moved to create an entire would from an image that flashes before you, you have tapped into a place in yourself that is very powerful, yet delicate. Be thankful to learn the path to that place, and visit often. Your work is a gift. Share, share, share.