Here's number two--
Q. Now let’s share how we get things done. What gets you in the mood to write? Is it a deadline, a prize, a pushy editor? Can you recall your most productive writing session ever? What triggered it?
It shouldn't solely be love, or anger, sadness, fear or any of the usual emotions. They're great motivators, but when they ebb, you're left stranded up sh!t creek without a paddle. Starting is easy, especially when you're caught up in the power of the anger in your belly, or when you're high on love. It's when you decide that you want to write at a level better than people ululating out of their pens, that your inner critic is born, wears its mother's clothes, acquires a knife, and brutally murders your creative impulse in the shower. Competent writers allow their feelings to get the ball rolling and keep their inner critics leashed until there's enough on the page to properly mine for themes, dialogue, good lines and (above all) sense. Good writers know how to manage their time, and the ebb and flow of inspiration, so that they remain productive regardless of how they feel.
Don't look at me-- I've yet to get that "Good Writer" part down pat.
Primum Mobile
I generally need a reason to write. There has to be some sort of end--
to catalogue your thoughts for future study and critique, perhaps;
to engage in written scream therapy;
to explore a theme, or aspect of what you're feeling or experiencing;
to write about the same topic differently, (maybe condense your love song as a haiku);
or else the writing need not be attempted in the first place. You cannot write aimlessly-- that is, write without a goal and write without refining the work-- and expect an audience to respect the writing. That's how kids come up with clumsy high school love poetry, and how local Catholic bishops churn out crass hyperbolic ramblings against teaching Rizal or family planning advocacy.
My Most Productive Session(s)
When I was high on love, I had many of these. I'd start with a song or poem in the morning, come back to it around lunch, and have that sucker polished by 3:00 p.m. Some of the writing still had problems-- at least, one of the following: clashing themes, murky images, problems with rhythm, or making the word count fit some sort of meter. Still, I was very prolific, writing regardless of the emotion that came as a consequence of my clumsily loving someone--joy, sadness, anger, longing.
The key to each session was almost always a woman. That, and Microsoft Word. I'd rush home to write about her eyes (her "wells of thought") or her ("chestnut") hair. On other days, I'd write about how we interacted on campus or at that last Sci-Fi Fan Club meeting. I'd write about her clothes, comparing them to a landscape seen from thousands of feet in the air-- how it would be glorious to fall into them, to break myself on the topography of her skin.
Only a few of these courtships ended well. But when they ended badly, they generally brought about a slew of new writing that explored what it was like to watch the lady swooning in the arms of another man. Or perhaps what being a tree must be like-- you grow roots by her door, waiting for her with flowers (or a token of goodbye) in your hands.
Yes, But What Motivates You To Write Today?
To compel myself to write, I ask myself this question: "What would it be like to...?" Then the ideas start coming and I have to restrain Norman "Critic" Bates while he ogles the creative impulse in the shower. Time enough for the knife, later.
Plugging for friends:
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