High Definition and Static

15 March 2017

A Reflection on Writing

Sometimes the idea materializes in the forefront of my mind, a clear cut form I can easily construct and compose. It flows through my fingers, tapping and racing, pattering quickly across the keyboard like rain on a roof. My attention, my body, my brain are engulfed in telling this story, of putting my idea in words and bringing it to life for others to witness, to take in, to enjoy or to hate, to agree or disagree with. There’s nothing else that matters and I lose time, completely immersed in the words pouring out of me, in telling the story and speaking to my readers.

These are the times I hope for, yearn for. When my creative mind supplies me something and I’m able to run with it. Writing does not always come easily or naturally, as all writers are aware of. Often I am stuck, ping ponging between ideas, or with none at all.

Sometimes my mind is too awake, too wired, too alive, buzzing with too many thoughts and stories. I want to write them all, but I can only pick one at a time. Perhaps I can combine some of them? But then the message is unclear, and it gets lost, even for me the writer, and I forget what the purpose of the original story was supposed to be.

Or perhaps I pick one, only I lose steam halfway through. It’s not falling into place the way I want it to. I try to rework what I have so I can continue, but as the minutes tick by the story doesn’t pick up, and I’m physically and mentally wilting. Time to drop that story and come back to it later. Let’s try another one.

Then there are the most dreaded of times. My mind supplies me nothing. I click on my internal browser of cached ideas, but it will not load. It’s not blank. No, if it were blank I could treat it like a canvas, let loose my imagination without restraint. Instead it is blocked. A warning error on the screen. “Failed to load. Please check creative connectivity or try again later.” Or perhaps sometimes, “content blocked. Unsafe connection.”

I pace, I write out associations, I go outside, smoke two cigarettes, drink some coffee, read for inspiration, do some more writing exercises, try to brainstorm again.

“Failed to load. Content blocked.”

These instances are the ones that make writers want to give up. That frustrate us. That make me feel like tugging at my hair as I stare at my computer screen and notebooks with eyes that burn from forced concentration. That make me say “screw it”and quit for the day. For the week. The month.