I can name a few occasions where people have thought less of themselves because of the success of others, more specifically “I should’ve done this much by now!”
Fellow artists… success does not come overnight.
Steven Spielberg didn’t make Jaws until 1975 … he was 29.
J.R.R. Tolkien didn’t publish The Hobbit until 1937, and then only by convenient circumstances and decades of effort … he was 45.
If you’re stopping to think that you’ve got a few years to catch up with these guys, how about this one?
The Beatles. Shea Stadium. 1965. Not far out of their teens and with years of preceding success to boot.
We all have potential to be successful in our chosen art, but it always has and always will be a gamble. What matters is to keep your expectations low and your esteem high. Don’t degrade yourself because others aren’t noticing your work, simply rejoice that you’re doing what you love.
Will you draw a profit someday? Maybe. Should it matter? Not in the slightest. Work at your own pace, and be happy you’re around to do it.
I imagine most of you reading this fancy yourselves creative, and you are. We’re all capable that way. We ought to count ourselves lucky that we choose to harness our creativity in a form of art … in words. But being a creative individual sometimes has its fallbacks.
We’re always thinking, both grand and minute. In this way we always have ideas circulating our minds. Today you feel like writing a suspense, tomorrow you don’t. Or maybe right now you feel like a fantasy, but in a few minutes a mystery. Short story … then novel. Script … then poetry. There are times when you can aim our focus on one thing at a time, but when inspiration strikes, don’t hesitate to embrace it; you’ll regret it if you don’t.
To quote Robert Louis Stevenson:
“Don’t judge each day by the harvest you reap, but by the seeds that you plant.”
Nothing happens in an instant, least of all in the world of writing. Don’t rush yourself to finish the script or the novel or the story. Follow inspiration as it comes, because even if you have multiple projects on your plate, they’ll each be drenched in heart and soul.
A few months back Dan shared his thoughts of Stephen King’s On Writing. He has since then shared the book with me, and it’s impacted me in such a way that I can’t help but say a few things myself.
So, On Writing.
This is actually my first time reading a Stephen King novel. I’ve read The Body and dabbled into The Dark Tower (minutely), but I would consider this my first exposure to the author. I was never particular of King purely out of how mainstream he is (I’ve never been one for fads … in my childhood leastways), but I always intended to delve into his stuff someday. I suppose it makes sense that it would have to be one of my friends to get one of King’s books in my hand, but I can certainly say I’ll need no more convincing again (I’m writing this after having read Carrie).
First off, for those who’ve never been exposed to Stephen King’s work, I’d say this is an ideal place to start. On Writing is book-ended by an autobiography that details King’s life: the highs, lows and wisdom (particularly in terms of writing). When reading this I got an overwhelming sense of fraternity; I got to know the writer before the writing. What I found in these pages was a man I share much in common with, from the throes of student employment to the love of writing.
The actual “on writing” portion of the book is a pleasure to read. There were plenty of enlightening tips, though I found that most of what King talks about is sort of common sense (from what I know, that is). But what Stephen does so well is interact with the reader in a way that makes them feel like they’re sitting down for an interview in his study, so much that you might feel a lump in your throat when you arrive at the more intimate reflections of writing in the On Living portion of the book. I’ve never read any sort of “how to” books, but I gander that few of them are as casual as this – as real. King is very real with the reader.
On Writing raises the tried and true idea that writing isn’t just about knowing how to do it, nor of devoting time to it, but to live, plain and simple. In the past few months I found myself heavily inspired while reading this book; trying new things, writing sorts of stories that I never had before, and it was gushing with heart and soul. That’s what this book does to the aspiring artist: it makes them feel capable – makes them turn the grime of everyday life into something extraordinary.
If there’s one thing anybody can walk away from On Writing with, it’s a better understanding of the legendary author that is Stephen King … and the reassuring thought of how much he is just like every one of us.
The best cure for writer’s block? Stop thinking of it as a barricade, and think of it more as a path. I find that most people who deal with writer’s block think of it as a physical block that has to be broken down or overcome when it’s better to approach it as a figurative block.
Imagine your creative flow as a road. Perhaps it’s pretty steady at the moment and everything’s going great. You’re writing up a storm and the printer is spitting out pages, but suddenly you reach a brick wall. You’ve lost your momentum and you’re perplexed or perturbed. Now most writers will just stare at that wall and bash their heads against it until it gives way, but perhaps choosing to turn left or right would be more beneficial.
This is where the figurative block comes in. Perhaps you walk down a block or two, and you find a road that leads you back on track beyond the dead end, or maybe it takes a few or a multitude; regardless, at some point you should find your way, even if it means going all the way back and starting over.
What is it that you’re exactly doing walking up these blocks? You’re having an experience. It could be taken quite literally that you’re going for a walk through town (perhaps to get groceries or just have a breath of fresh air). Maybe you’re watching a movie, reading a book, or listening to music. Or perhaps you’re taking big steps and going on a vacation or extensive adventure. Walking down these roads could be anything (heck, even eating can count), but what matters is that you’re broadening your creative horizons by having experiences to draw from. At some point you’re going to find the right road that leads you back on the right track, or sometimes on a new, more inspired path altogether.
To put it plainly, writer’s block comes about from a lack of inspiration. Rather than sit at your keyboard and question your talent, why not take writer’s block as an opportunity to indulge yourself in leisureness or activity? Why not let your mind rest up as well as absorb more ideas? There’s no need to fret, because the fact is inspiration doesn’t magically come about by staring at a blank page; it comes from living and being active. See the world, find a story, and make yourself hunger to fill that page, because you just can’t force-feed inspiration.
A lot of artists I’ve known throughout the years suffer from the same form of creative guilt as I do. This guilt is that little voice inside of you that says:
“Daniel, you haven’t done any writing today or yesterday! You’ve been working on the same story for a month now! You gotta do something big and monumentous! You have to prove to everyone that you can do it! You gotta drop everything and write for 4 weeks straight, never stopping and not talking to anybody! Everyone is going to think you’re some sort of hack if you don’t deliver some sort of product, and FAST!”
As great as these intentions are, this usually leads to something I like to call “breaking the dam.” It’s a creative act that seeks to do something REALLY BIG, and ALL AT ONCE, like some sort of creative hiroshima massacre.
Sure you got everyone’s attention with your huge explosion of creativity, but this doesn’t give you a good foundation to build on. Instead it gives all artists a false sense of accomplishment.
Please learn from my mistakes, and know that leaps of absurd ambition do not equal productivity… or product. Haven’t you ever heard anybody say, “quality, not quantity?”
I know there is a lot to be said about setting high goals for yourself, and I’m all-for people trying to pursue their dreams. I also understand that there are some artists who can’t help but get a flush of inspiration. This is an enviable aspect of the craft. Yet it is an aspect that is strengthened by a routine, rather than a stand alone occurrence. But if you ‘break the dam’ on your craft… yes you will be doing something big with your life, but at the end of the day you’re left with a broken dam. You’ll be drowning in your own flood waters, and you won’t have any energy left to pick up the pieces.
Try to build a foundation for yourself – brick by brick; a great cement dam that holds back the demons of guilt and doubt. You need to be prepared for failures. I’m sure everyone has heard the bedtime story of the Tortoise and the Hare. Slow and steady wins this race. Don’t tucker yourself out and feel depleted every year. If you do that you won’t get anything done.
Famed director Stephen Spielberg made several made-for-TV movies, and TV-Specials before he even attempted an ambitious project like JAWS. Learn from my mistakes. Please. Small ‘doable’ actions have gotten me further than I ever thought possible.
Practice some self discipline, and map out a plan of action for yourself before making any drastic decisions. Then put your plan into action, and by all means PACE yourself.
Just try to be a doer, and NOT a doer-all-at-once.
Let’s be materialistic for one moment and get out of the way the fact that we live in an overly-materialistic world. People are stricken blind by science and technology so much that there is little room for faith for the sake of faith anymore. Now that’s not to say that there isn’t good in the sciences and that much of what it offers us isn’t fact (apparently), but I mean to point out that most people out there are too dictated by truths than they are by their dreams.
On earth we have north, east, south and west; up, down, left and right; yes, no, maybe so; life, death, and somewhere in between. But I can honestly say that the endless space that surrounds us could care less when someone says something like “Superman is impossible.” – Improbable - maybe, but never impossible. In my opinion, to be successful in creative writing is to disregard the norm and put faith into what can and might be (or perhaps already is).
A recent example of a material-driven opinion is a friend of mine commenting on The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, remarking that Radagast the Brown’s giant rabbits (ala Santa’s reindeer) were out of place in the context of the movie. I suppose he’s right. Dragons, dwarves, goblins, wizards and hobbits make enough sense, but God forbid if there’s such a thing as giant rabbits in a fantasy world. It’s this sort of attitude that threatens the creative mind. If we can allow ourselves to be immersed into characters of fantastical origin, there’s no reason we should question anything that follows.
Why should we be leashed by such statements as “man can’t fly?” For one thing, we can (albeit by means of machine), but going back to the idea of Superman, why can’t such a thing be plausible? There might be no means on earth where we can actually levitate ourselves by flexing a muscle per se, but what’s to say we can’t be like Superman, land on an alien planet, and be physically advantaged?
Writers might feel lack of faith in themselves just because there’s no reason behind the nonsensical nature of our dreams, but why should there be? When in dreams we’re able to do things out of the ordinary to our everyday lives, and rarely do any of us question it when in the process of dreaming. If you maintain this mentality in writing, you’ll find yourself producing the most imaginative and inspired work you can. Granted, there’s a time and place for proper polishing and structure, but to make a fantasy (or any sort of fiction) doesn’t require background and history.
Look at Louis Carrol’s Alice books. We don’t know the origins of the white rabbit, or Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee, yet we don’t question it whatsoever on account of our immersion with the fantasy. You’re more than free to be as detailed as Tolkien, but there is never any harm in just free-writing and going without a plan of attack. To be most creative is to be immaterial, and to be immaterial is to act without rule. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned from fiction and fantasy, it’s that there are no rules.
A line worth mentioning that plays into what I’m trying to convey can be found in the film Wanted in context with ‘curving a bullet’ around an object:
“It’s not a question of how. It’s a question of what. If no one told you that bullets flew straight, and I gave you a gun and told you to hit the target, what would you do? Let your instincts guide you.”
In short, if you want to fire up your creative engines and unleash your full capacity on the blank page, you first have to train yourself to think outside the box, quite literally, and make everything your own. If materialistic ideals stand in the way of your target, curve the bullet.
-Tori Domay
As a little extra support for these notions, here is a video that I watch on occassion to keep my imagination in check:
“Let’s get one thing clear right now, shall we? There is no Idea Dump, no Story Central, no Island of the Buried Bestsellers; good story ideas seem to come quite literally from nowhere, sailing at you right out of the empty sky: two previously unrelated ideas come together and make something new under the sun. Your job isn’t to find these ideas but to recognize them when they show up.”
— Stephen King (On Writing)
I have the utmost respect for Mr. King. That man has more novels in him than almost any other author. Like King, I whole heartedly agree that ideas spring from nowhere, or the sky. I like to believe in Julia Cameron’s idea, author of The Artist’s Way, when she says, “…ideas come from the great creator”. Call it God, inspiration, nature, or whatever you like, ideas spring out from the empty vacuum of nothingness. Someone or something, is tuning us into the realm of imagination, where dreams are screaming to be written.
For me, writing is as close to me as my faith. I practice it daily. It brings me closer to creativity, and it nudges me back to matters of personal faith. Wherever ideas come from, and I’m sure there are no right or wrong answers, we must be thankful that ideas DO in fact come to us.
The problem we artists suffer from, is when these ideas become plugged like a blocked pipe, or a dammed river. We become furious with ourselves that we can’t hurdle the foreboding nothingness of the blank page. We must accept that creative blocks happen, and they are often frustrating or very personal.
For me, writing is like stigmata. It seemingly springs up out of nowhere, and is sometimes very painful. Ideas can be infuriating, but they can also be empowering. It is an ethereal, sometimes spiritual aspect that brings me down out of the clouds, and onto the blank page of my story. The water starts to flow from the tap. The river breaks the dam and becomes a rapid downhill adventure, until the very last page.
Whatever is blocking you, I hope some of the tools presented on this blog, will help to unravel the knots in your story, and your soul.