My
passion for writing began with a single idea—one destined to
change the children’s book world. When I wasn’t in class or
doing homework, I diligently wrote and rhymed until my
picture book text reached a whopping 1,600 words. I smiled
with satisfaction. Finally, it was ready for pictures!
I vividly recall the moment my first fear gripped me. I was
in the shower, musing about my story and reciting the lines.
I froze: what if this is my first, last, and best story?
What if I never have another idea?
Thankfully, the fear was unfounded. But now, a number of
years (and a few classes on writing for children) later, I
tend to have the opposite problem. I have a zillion ideas.
What I don’t have is time to develop them all. Combine that
with unhealthy tendencies toward perfectionism, distraction,
and procrastination, and the result is a strain of writer’s
block I’m particularly susceptible to. I call it “creative
constipation.”
Maybe you have great beginnings for two MG novels, four
picture books, and numerous nonfiction articles, poems, and
short stories (as I do). Or maybe you have one great story,
but are so overwhelmed with possible directions you can’t
seem to write a single word for any of them. If you have
ever been reeling with ideas but stop cold when faced with
choosing a direction, you know what I’m talking about.
This ailment comes up over and over for me, so I decided to
see what my personal panel of experts has to say on the
subject.
Choose One Story—and Write It
“Writing isn’t a matter of sitting around and waiting for
the spirit to move you,” says Nancy Lamb, author of The
Writer’s Guide to Crafting Stories for Children. When
life is happening around us, that’s when we need Lamb’s
three Ds the most: Desire, Discipline, and Determination.
First we must separate the desire to have written a book
from the desire to write. Desire will propel us to the next
and more difficult stage, discipline. I have the most
trouble with this D—writing every day whether I’m in the
mood or not, but Lamb personalizes the struggle into
inspiration: “Discipline means we make up our minds not to
let ourselves down.” Lastly, Determination won’t let
obstacles bring you to a halt. Hidden within the three Ds is
a fourth—Direction. So choose one story now and put the Ds
to work.
To clear the flow, she offers several questions for close
examination. What are the resentments and fears associated
with this project? Any silly ones left over? What do you
have to gain by not doing the project? Once you have brought
these roadblocks to light, however petty they may seem, you
clear the way for quantity—and ultimately quality.
Dashing all my hopes (and many of my reasons for
procrastinating) to pieces, Goldberg adds, “There is no
perfection. If you want to write, you have to cut through
and write. There is no perfect atmosphere, notebook, pen, or
desk, so train yourself to be flexible.” Goldberg suggests
writing in lots of different places and circumstances to
find what works for you. Every word you write is a positive
step.
According to Lamott, the first draft is the “down draft”—get
it down. Worry about cheesiness and boring verbs later. The
next draft is the “up draft,” where you fix it up. Too often
I try to go straight for the draft she dubs the “dental
draft, where you check every tooth, to see if it’s loose or
cramped or decayed, or even, God help us, healthy.” I end up
with a down draft regardless, but the order she suggests is
far less painful!
“Be a Pirate! Be a Lion!”
Be careless and reckless, encourages Brenda Ueland in her
classic1938 work, If You Want to Write. Dwelling on
mistakes simply veers you straight toward them, as a child
on a bike veers toward a tree. Instead, she suggests, “See
how bad a story you can write. See how dull you can be.” She
guarantees you can’t. Instead, you will have conquered the
perfectionism that binds you.
Recklessness and freedom have an even greater benefit: it
will lead you to your true voice. This kind of touching,
living honesty will “break through the shell of glibness to
what is true underneath.”
“Best” is fluid if “what you have” keeps expanding and
improving. Part of striving toward artistic excellence is
developing skill, and skill involves effort. We need
training, ongoing development, and practice to hone our
craft. A word of caution, however: beware of using classes
as crutches. Training can’t replace doing the work. Practice
makes excellence.
When we let go, we are “open to riding the wind. Something
almost always happens to startle us during the act of
creating, but not unless we let go our adult intellectual
control and become as open as little children.” Children do
not fear revelation. They anticipate it. They spend time
waiting, hoping, and being. As L’Engle writes, “Being time
is never wasted.”
That Said …
I was relieved to discover no one had anything curative to
say about having too many ideas, though I’m still in
search of how to choose among so many possibilities. I have
listed a few practical strategies I’ve found helpful in
teaching myself to stay put, focus, and just write.
And that first story? Amidst the chaos of life and a hundred
other ideas, I’ve managed to whittle it down to a slim,
snappy 400 words. I think—perhaps—it’s finally ready for
pictures.
Eight More Suggestions for Foiling Creative Constipation:
§
Use your critique group as a motivator. Always bring
something to show. Ask them to hold you accountable to your
goals. Keep in mind they are your coworkers—and
cheerleaders.
§
Set weekly, monthly, and yearly goals. Keep your goals
posted where you can see them. Strive to meet them, and
reward yourself tangibly when you do (though I humbly
suggest avoiding food as a reward!)
§
If you don’t enjoy working solitaire, find a writing partner
or group. Meet regularly, and commit to using the full block
of time to create. Many libraries, universities, and
community centers have meeting rooms.
§
If you have so many ideas you don’t know which one to work
on, make a deal with yourself to concentrate on just one for
a month. Focus. Give it your best shot! If you don’t like
where it goes, work on something else the next month.
§
Set a timer. This works especially well for procrastinators,
many of whom like the “last minute” adrenaline rush. Give
yourself permission to work on only one project. The time is
sacred: no phone calls, other projects, meetings, or laundry
can encroach.
§
Get to know where your story is going. I’ve found if I don’t
take time to plan my direction, I end up with tons of
intriguing beginnings going nowhere.
§
Skip the section giving you trouble and write a different
part of the story. The chronological writing police are a
myth. You may even make discoveries critical to your problem
spot.
§
Write an article about your weakness. You might just
surprise yourself with great ideas, and you’ll have
solutions right there in one handy reference!
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