Month: August 2016

blog, Pat Aitcheson writes, writing process

In a creative slump? Try thinking inside the box

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image: pixel1 via pixabay

Sometimes more is not better.

We live in a world (at least, in the developed world) where choice is king. The more choices, the better the world is working, and the received wisdom is that more is always better. Whole industries are built on finding and then expanding niches.

Where we once had a choice between porridge, corn flakes or wheat biscuits for breakfast, we now have a glittering array of possibility. Walk down the cereal aisle(s) at the supermarket and see for yourself. Traditional or “classic cereals” jostle with those aimed at kids, adults, healthy adults, overweight adults, adults in a hurry…

It’s no wonder that the protagonist of The Hurt Locker stood in the store when he returned from Iran, paralysed by a surfeit of choice. It is something we all do. We rush into the store to find something for dinner, and we find ourselves overwhelmed, unable to choose.

FMI statistics show the average US supermarket carries over 42,000 items. At one point recently, Tesco, Britain’s largest supermarket chain, carried 90,000 items, including 28 kinds of tomato ketchup. They planned to cut this to 60,000 to make shopping more efficient.

Mind. Blown.

How often do we grab the first thing we see, or give up and get a takeaway meal instead, in a mild state of panic? Those tempting offers and discounts take advantage of our frazzled brains, already worn out by too many choices from the moment we woke up.

In his TED talk Phil Hansen talks candidly about his quest to “Embrace the shake”. Well worth ten minutes of your time. He talks about being creative, losing the ability and will to create as he wished, and how he overcame a creative slump that lasted for years.

He vividly describes becoming overwhelmed by possibility. For writers, this equates not only to the empty page, but also to absent parameters. “Write a short story/novel/poem about anything” sounds great, till we sit down to start.

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image: geralt via pixabay

If all paths are open, which one should we take? Perhaps your stomach is already clenching at the very thought. The cure is surprising.

Creativity blossoms where there are restrictions.

The enemy of art is the absence of limitations.

attributed to Orson Welles

We all know that necessity is the mother of invention. Welles just put it more eloquently. Put some walls in place, and creativity can bounce off them, finding surprising ways to fulfil the brief. It’s not just for artists, because we all have constraints. Problem solving is a key skill for life.

If there are no constraints, there is no problem to solve, no question to answer.

We happen on a brilliant solution not by waving a hand or throwing money at problems, but by understanding that we must transcend apparently fixed parameters. We use only what we have been given to find another way.

This is a great way to recover creativity. Or to overcome the dread of the empty page. Or to continue when we we doubt our ability to get going. Here are some suggestions. The first and most important step is to suspend judgement, the endless chatter of this is stupid/no good/worthless. It’s just practice.

The idea is to move forward and get ideas flowing, so that the energy feeds into your current project. In your project there are constraints, blocks, problems to overcome, yes? First, you need to loosen your creative muscles, like an athlete warning up.

Look around you, and write 100 words on the first red or blue object you see.

Construct a main dish using only the items in your fridge right now.

Pick up a book, turn to a random page. Look for the first word that is a noun, verb, or adjective. Write a one page story using that word, in ten minutes or less.

Paint using only shades of one colour.

Use random word generators, or a random first line generator, to get started. No more than ten minutes to create something using your preferred medium; words, images, music.

I highly recommend Phil Hansen‘s talk, where he gives great illustrated examples. He tried some surprising things. One might just be the spark you need to get started again.

Limiting our fictional characters can also be a good thing. Give her a seemingly impossible situation, and then write her way out. Put him in a literal or metaphorical cage, and see how he responds. It’s a great way of showing character.

Sometimes, too many choices make us anxious. Then, we need a box as a starting point. It needs to be small enough that it doesn’t paralyse with too much possibility.

Big enough that imagination can stretch its wings and fly.

blog, Pat Aitcheson writes, writing process

Rejected? 7 ways to bounce back

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Or, how to come out swinging… again

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image: AlexVan via pixabay

So, your competition entry was unsuccessful. You get a polite standard email from the agent, or worse, you check the calendar and realise that no news is bad news. Your short story is ‘not what we’re looking for’ or they decided to pass on your poetry this time.

During this Rio Olympics season, it’s fantastic to watch people at the top of their game perform. But let’s not forget that the losers, those who didn’t make the cut, those who were pipped for the bronze, or who were off their best, all worked just as hard. They gave everything, but it didn’t work out.

“It is possible to commit no mistakes, and still lose. That is not a weakness, that is life.”

Jean-Luc Picard, Star Trek: The Next Generation

So, what to do when that happens to you?

1. Reframe

You are not your writing, even though you put part of yourself into it. This is not the worst thing that could happen, and it doesn’t mean you are a total failure as a writer and a human being.

Make sure that you followed all the submission guidelines, met the deadline, and didn’t fall before the first hurdle.

2. Review 

It’s uncommon to get useful feedback. If you get any, use it. I sent a piece to a magazine once, and while they didn’t accept it, they offered feedback. I grabbed with both hands, so to speak. They liked the writing but weren’t sure about the plot. I used that comment to improve, by going back and reviewing the story.

3. Rework

Maybe ask a trusted writing friend, or use point 1 and pretend it was written by someone else. By taking the emotional attachment out, you can see more clearly where it could be better (tip: it can always be better). Relate the feedback to your work, but take the useful parts and discard the rest.

4. Resubmit

If you conclude that the story is still good, it might be suitable to submit somewhere else. Keep a file of stories tagged with themes, and look over it when you’re thinking of submitting again. The judging process is subjective, and the next reader might love it.

5. Regroup

I subscribe to Writing Magazine and study their annual Writing Competition Guide frequently. There is an online edition, but I like to read a physical copy, with a mug of tea in hand. Plus, there is a section each month on where and what to submit, apply and enter. It’s invaluable, and keeps me thinking what next?

Find a reputable information source, and check back regularly.

It’s important to have a portfolio of completed pieces, first because finishing things is essential to progressing in skill, second because it gives a sense of accomplishment, and third because one day, someone will ask “do you have anything else?” and you want to be able to say yes.

6. Release

Write something new. Make it the best you can.

That’s easy, compared to the next part.

Take a deep breath, and let it go. Procrastination hides perfectionism; perfectionism hides fear, and fear is the enemy. Call it by its name. Step out of fear’s shadow and do the thing anyway.

You cannot win if you don’t enter the race.

7. Reward

You did it! You got in the game, and learned from the experience. Now you have to do it again, and that’s hard. Remember though, that whether they got a medal or not, all those athletes have to get back out there; training, eating clean, clocking the miles and gym hours, all without a guarantee of reward. And they have to perform the miracle again while the world is watching.

Pat yourself on the back. You faced down your demon and won this fight, though the battle continues. Keep a record of your campaign, take a small reward for effort. And make sure you have the right incentive in mind, a gift to award yourself for that glorious day when it all comes right and you are a winner. Be like an athlete.

Visualise success, work for it, believe in yourself.

blog, Pat Aitcheson writes, writing process

Sharpening my pencils

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“When the sea is rough, mend your sails”

Everything I’ve Ever Done That Worked, Lesley Garner

Last time, I talked about dropping the oars and letting my boat drift. Taking the maritime metaphor further, the quote above came to mind. It’s been years since I first read it, but remembering the phrase led me to search out a book long forgotten in my bedside cupboard. It is full of insights, the kind of book to dip in and out of, different stories for different times.

Life can feel like a long and exhausting campaign.

Each battle is succeeded by yet another clash, a siege, an ambush. The right tools are essential, the right skills indispensable. (A large, well equipped army would help too.) But there must also be periods of rest, whether chosen or enforced.

We neglect our greatest asset at our peril. Running a car without fuel and service is sure to end in disaster, yet we regularly do the same with our own selves; whipping up a frenzy of activity with adrenaline and caffeine, neglecting downtime. We are addicted to busyness, and never stop to consider whether it is the right kind of busy.

Stephen Covey, in his defining book The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People, talked about sharpening the saw. He advocates a balanced programme of self renewal, in the areas of body, mind, heart, and soul. He reminds us that this seventh habit supports all the others.

So, just as the marksman cleans his rifle, and the gardener oils her pruning knife, I will take this time to hone my technique. I will re-read old books and remember the comfort they can bring. The to-be-read pile beckons, with both fiction to enjoy and craft books to study. It is certainly time to step away from the screen and go outside, walk, maybe dig a little in the garden. Meditation might help me still the chatter, the anxiety about the future and regrets about the past.

I don’t know how long this will last. Not forever, because everything is temporary. But I can turn adversity into an opportunity to repair and regain my strength.

And the moment there is a fair wind, I will be equipped and ready to set sail once more. 

blog, Pat Aitcheson writes

It doesn’t matter

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I said before that I stopped writing.

And I have, except that I am compelled to make my weekly blog post. It doesn’t matter whether I do it or not. It doesn’t matter if I break my commitment, made by me and for me. It doesn’t matter if anyone notices, or not.

The sun rises, rain falls, darkness descends, without my input. The flower pictured above was not planted by me; it was a chance seedling, happened upon one afternoon when I wandered down to the bottom of my garden. I saw it, but if I hadn’t, it would have been there just the same. It would be no less beautiful, no less worthy of close examination, or of digital immortality.

It doesn’t matter. Everything is temporary.

Barren places hide seeds that may yet bloom, more gorgeous than anything deliberately nurtured. You just have to shine some light, go down to the further corners, and keep your eyes open.

I’m finished now.

And that’s okay, for this, too, will pass.