Today I Wrote

I knew the day would come. I’d hoped it would arrive around day 28 or 29 of this 30 day writing challenge…but nope, it arrived within my first week. That Day…when I would ask myself “what do I write about today?” No Idea. Let’s wing it!

How do creative people create? Where do they get their wellspring of ideas? Is it an organic process of just sitting, standing, or running around and…BAM..the idea pops into their head? Or is it more a more functional process of just showing up to the paper or computer and acting as if? Is it more complicated than any of this? Are there days the muse cooperates and days where the muse seems stays in bed, hitting the snooze button…again…and again?

I remember seeing a writer on television some years ago now. I think it was bell hooks? It was talk show, maybe Oprah…maybe not…but the question posed to her by one of the audience members was, “how do you find time to write?” Her respond was “I wrote when I was at the laundromat…I wrote when I was on the bus…I wrote with my baby at my feet”…etc. She spoke to the functional part of writing…which is to write…writing…putting pen to paper. Her response illuminated the act of writing under all conditions. No excuses. Just write.

One the blockers has been my focus on the end product. Not simply the finished novel, article, or screenplay but the end product of how the writing will be received? Which means that I focus on the end results of my writing and it not measuring up to the published, edited, rewritten, edited, and rewritten again works, of more experienced writers blocks me from doing my work. It’s a mind fuck that keeps me from writing. It keeps me locked in the fantasy of “boy, one of these days…I’m going to be a writer”. Which is to say, that my mind holds onto the fantasy that one of these days, I will be a Famous Writer…one who’s name will evoke a certain style of writing. One who will be paid a handsome salary of accolades and cash for the creation of written products.

The only thing I get to control in the writing process is the writing. And, it is the portion of the process that my mind would like to focus on the least. I must face the muse with its snooze button…I can’t control that…I can only write. And, that means writing on a day when I have no idea what I will write…where it all will go? This is one of those days…and while I’m sure this piece will not land at the feet of the masses and make them “remember my name forever”…I do know I get to hold myself to the challenge laid down by bell hooks which is to “write in the laundromat, write on the bus, write in your kitchen…write if you’re poor, or female or male, gay or straight or somewhere in between, write if you’re sad, write if you’re happy, write if you’re rich, write if you’re poor…JUST WRITE”!

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