the little engine in the back of my head
I’ve learned something about myself recently, and maybe even something about the larger creative process. Let me explain.
When I’m in the middle of writing, there is a part of by brain that is constantly writing. Attacking story problems. Thinking up jokes, bits of dialogues, whole conversations, jokes, cool moments. It’s a non-stop assault and it provides a lot of bounty – notes I’ll write down and have available for when I’m actually committing the story to paper.
And while this can be annoying for living regular life and having conversations with people and focusing on such things as driving directions or the proper way to dry a load of laundry, it is in fact exhilarating and wonderful and so satisfying. I enjoy it so much.
Back when I worked full time at a fortune 500 bank, this did not happen. Part of this was because I wasn’t priming that pump. These days, I’m heavily invested in storytelling – to imagining and sketching and writing – and that investment pays me back with a constant flow of creation. Back then, my focus for much of the day was elsewhere, by necessity, and by the end of the working day I was too exhausted to do much at all.
Now, these are challenging days that we’re all going through. And I’ve found that these things that I’m facing on behalf of myself and many people I love are so huge and seemingly over-powering that that little part of my brain is constantly processing them… and the creative well had gone somewhat dry. I simply wasn’t thinking about my stories on any level.
But, being a writer, and having a deadline looming this very week, I can’t let this stand. So – again, it’s very much like priming a pump – I had to sit down and just flat out work and struggle until an inkling of those fun thoughts started to trickle through again. Yesterday and today, I’ve been hearing the voices again – and in a good way.
So, what I’ve learned:
1) You have to invest time and energy to make the “magic of the muse” speak to you.
2) You can’t really wait for the muse to speak, the muse often only speaks back.
3) Writers, and creative people, when in a creative flow, are always creating…



and don’t you find some kind of relief in actually just working?
not trying to solve something insurmountable or figure out your life. but doing what you know you should be doing and in fact have some semblance of control over…I think there is a lot of comfort that comes with that, actually.
Yes, definitely. I think it’s one of the advantages of work, for sure. And yes, I think it really does help to start creating and working instead of just playing defense and trying to survive.
I do some of my best work in the car or staring out of windows; it’s like profitable daydreaming. I think it’s because the more we flex those muscles, the stronger they get. That little creative engine can develop a mighty strength when you let it grow. What a blessing indeed to claim that land of possibility your office!
Great post! Wonderful way to start off December.
Jessica – I totally concur. Being in that flow, feeling that stream move all around you is a huge relief. I think there’s a kind of rightness to it. A shimmering vibration because that’s what you’re meant to do. You are being your purest self.
Tiff – Flexing those muscles and building that strength up is my favorite analogy for creativity. The imagination and a creative brain needs to be developed – just like a pro athlete must develop their body for their sport. It’s important and it takes effort and time – not just doing, but daydreaming profitably, too!
Jason – #2 You can’t really wait for the muse to speak, the muse often only speaks back is so on and so true. I think for writers especially – but really any artists – understanding and truly living that ethos is the mark of an adult writer. It’s the mark of maturity and true professionalism – even if you’re just writing for yourself.
I will just say this about my brain constantly writing. I have given up ideas for dead, or hit roadblocks or narrative knots in them that just baffle me into setting the idea aside. Then, days later or even years later in some instances, I will be climbing out of the shower or driving along or daydreaming while I’m in line and POW! A solution will present itself. An old friend of mine in Chicago used to say the pieces had to “bake” together in the oven of my subconcious before I could start start to push and pull the lump into something resembling a story. Often times stories or scripts of mine that I personally adore are ones that I can’t remember how they came about or where they found their spark from, because they’ve gone through that constant bubbling process the most.
Great post and great comments. I agree with you all and it was refreshing to read this.