On the Creative Process and Just Doing It Already
The most important part of the creative process is getting started. When I was younger, I wrote daily. I didn’t have much to do and was often grounded so I spent a lot of time in my room with only my thoughts for entertainment. I enjoyed reading, but I’d read most of the books in my house by the time I turned 11. To pass the time and keep myself sane, I created stories by writing out dreams, plans for the future, or plots of TV shows that I would want to watch. I also wrote a lot of poetry. When we got our first home computer, I spent hours figuring out basic HTML and creating an Angelfire website dedicated to my poetry. I updated it every few days. I was flattered when classmates told me they read my poems, but I didn’t really care if I had an audience.
I only wanted to write.
I wasn’t worried about running out of ideas. I wasn’t worried about whether I was producing my best content. I just did the work.
As I got older, I’d wait to feel inspired to write something. This was particularly true with my poetry. I’d have to be going through some intense emotional stuff to feel the desire to write anything. This produced some great pieces, but I only wrote a poem every six months or so. In college, not wanting to force the creative process led to many late nights writing final papers the day before they were due.
As I’ve made steps to make writing my career, I realize that like many things, you have to just do it. I can’t worry too much about the end product and whether it’s perfect. I can’t worry about who will read it and who won’t. I can’t worry about whether I’m contributing to the greater good every time I put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard.
I just have to write. Sometimes it’s brilliant and sometimes it’s terrible. But I just have to keep doing it. That’s the only way to improve, that’s the only way to keep moving forward.
So I’ll write every day. I’ll sit down, turn on classical music or brain-stimulating ambient noise, try to focus my monkey mind and get my ideas on the page.
And like all things I wrote, I ultimately wrote this for myself, to remind myself that it’s what I need to do. Maybe you need to hear it too. My writing might be your anything. Whatever you need to be doing — whatever you want to be doing, but put off because it’s damn scary to actually do the work — go on now and get it done. You’ll thank yourself later.
