The following piece was written in a
single session, using techniques taken from
Dorothea Brande’s
Becoming a Writer and
Julia Cameron’s
The Artist’s Way. The modern tendency
toward scepticism will prevent many believing that I present this piece exactly
as it was first written. Nevertheless, that’s the case. I haven’t edited the
piece in any way. It remains precisely as it came from the ends of my fingers.
I don’t present this to illustrate anything other than the assertion that it’s
possible to sit down in front of a blank piece of paper with no idea what you
want to write and come up with something that is, at least, a basis for some
better, more polished and edited piece. It was started to get my own creative
juices going. That it turned into this illustration is a combination of good
fortune and my determination not to allow the inner policeman to place barriers
in my way whilst creating.
I have subsequently read through the
piece, but I’ve made no alterations at all. None. If you have ever suffered
from any form of writer’s block, I urge you to read on. It shows, demonstrates,
the reality of the process of enabling your inner artist. Oh, and by the way, I
note that at one stage it says it took about twenty minutes. That was a
guestimate, written at that point in the piece. It actually took forty six
minutes in total. I know this because I’m currently keeping a time chart of my
activities so I know how I really spend my time.
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Sometimes it’s necessary simply to
place words on paper, with no knowledge of where they will take you. Being
blocked, lacking ideas, is often no more than a failure to be brave. That blank
page can become a barrier. Filling it with words, no matter what they say, can
break that barrier and set off the writer on a journey of adventure, romance,
fantasy, or whatever direction the subconscious decides to take you.
The point is not to be afraid, not
to allow the unknown to govern your creativity. Allow that inner creative voice
its head, give it freedom. Ignore all the rules and laws and advice about
sentence structure, planning and genre. This is a way to free your spirit and
allow the creative artist inside you to soar.
Sometimes, faced with such a blank
space, you will indulge in utter rubbish for a while. The words will mean
nothing, even when you look at them later, and especially as you place them in
lines on the page. But that isn’t important. The very act of writing results in
more writing. If you’re a writer, if you’re an artist, a creator, the ideas
will eventually come to you. They’ll sneak up when you’re not looking and
suddenly you’ll have the germ of a story. I don’t know how this will work for
everyone, I only know that it does work in varying degrees for all those who
have any creative urge.
For me, it’s possible to sit down at
the keyboard with absolutely no preconceived ideas, no knowledge of a
character, no story thread, and end up with a short story at a single sitting./
Sometimes, I need longer, more sessions, but I frequently end up with a story
at the end of the process. The important thing is not to think about what
you’re writing, not to allow the search for the right word to get in the way.
If this means that you put down the same word seventeen times in a row, it’s
not important. The exercise is about getting over that block that’s preventing
you from creating. Ignore grammar, spelling, syntax and appropriate language.
If expletives come to you use them, or, more accurately, allow them space on
the page. You can always remove them when you go back to do your edit.
And that’s the real point here. What
you’re doing is allowing the creative side of your brain to play without that
irritatingly perfectionist editing policeman to look over your shoulder with
his corrections and insistence on proper sentence formation. If you seek
perfection at the moment of creativity, you’ll never create a thing. Do you
suppose Michelangelo produced his works without error, Did Da Vinci make no
mistakes along the path to genius? Were Shakespeare’s first drafts the works
you now see performed on stage and screen the world over? Of course not. You
see the finished article, the polished piece, from all published artists. What
you don’t see is the stumbles and wrong paths, the mistakes and glaring errors
of grammar they made along the route to that brilliant perfect work. If you
insist on comparing your fledgling work with the final output of an
accomplished master, you’ll always be poor by comparison. Wait until you’ve
finished the piece before you start to make comparisons, if you must.
This piece started off as an
exercise to write a new story. Seriously, that is what I had in mind when I sat
at the keyboard. That it turned into this piece is simply an illustration of my
point. That allowing your creative self to take ascendency will eventually produce
a piece of written work with some value. It may need some work; it may need
completely re-writing. It may be no more than the germ of a story that you can
later turn into the work you envisaged at the start. But it will be a piece of
writing that has carried you over the block. It’s because I’ve used this
technique almost all my writing life that I’ve never actually suffered writer’s
block. There have been odd times when I’ve turned out something like this
rather than a piece of fiction, but I’ve always been able to place words on
paper.
It’s about taking the plunge, being
brave. It’s about ignoring that ingrained school lesson that everything must be
right. It’s about trusting your inner artist. As Julia Cameron says in The
Artist’s Way, you need to treat your inner artist as a child. Allow it to play.
Give it the freedom to make mistakes, we learn from such mistakes. And, in the
end, when it comes to writing, what has been lost if you produce a page that’s
mostly gobbledegook? A few moments of your time? Nothing more. But the gains
that are possible form such an exercise are enormous.
I set out with a blank sheet this
morning. These words, exactly as they are now, took me about twenty minutes to
write. But only because I deliberately refused to allow my inner policeman to
interfere as I produced the idea. Of course, I did correct the odd typo as I
went along, but I’ve been doing this for years. If it’s your first time, I
suggest you avoid even looking at the screen or the piece of paper, if you’re writing
by hand. That way you have no reason to backtrack. I have the excuse that, as
time went past, I realised I had a piece for my blog. But, I want to be as
honest as convention permits. So, I’m making the decision now not to edit this
piece, but to publish it as it came from my finger ends. If I can do this,
knowing that it will be read by many people, surely you can do it, knowing you
can go back at a later date and make your words perfect, correct any
syntactical or grammatical errors, remove any repetitions.
So, that’s my challenge to you.
Start off your day with that blank sheet of paper and just write those words
that flow, regardless of order, grammar, syntax, spelling or even sense. These
are words to get your creative spirit out into the open. Consider them the same
as those first strokes of preparation painters make on their blank canvass. But
remember that, for most painters, they have the advantage of a subject actually
before them. You, as a writer, may have no more than the accumulated experience
of your lifetime and the words you’ve read from others. By allowing your inner
artist to overcome the inner policeman, you might just turn out the foundation
of a piece that you can turn into that work of genius.
So. There you have it. I’ve probably
repeated myself, used inappropriate words, missed out words here and there.
But, truthfully, this piece has not been edited. It would be worthless if I’d
done that. It is, after all, intended as an illustration of what can be
achieved by getting that damned policeman off your shoulder and letting your
artist out to play.
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I blush at the errors in the piece, but I hope this has been useful for
you. I’d welcome your comments. Thanks for reading this.