A writer usually is working toward the completion of a specific project, but we have to be tricky about this. If we think too much in terms of the end product, the process of getting there could suffer.
After all, creation doesn’t happen instantaneously. It requires that our multiple voices reach some agreement; Ms. Intellect must cooperate with Desire, and together they must refer to Wisdom and then report back to Vision, and so on. Any work of art is happening on several different levels at once. When we limit our concept of art-making simply to the production of a finished piece, we aren’t allowing all those voices to be heard.
Sometimes we have to let the voices debate and argue. And if we hurry too much or start making unilateral decisions, they are very likely to clam up altogether.
We have to respect the process. When you or I do creative work, each of us has a certain way of operating—it’s the way we work best. Perhaps you have to stare out the window awhile; perhaps I must always begin by inventing an outline. Do not listen to people who try to tell you the “correct” writing process. “Correct” shifts and changes among individuals. It even shifts around within one person’s life. My writing life may adjust to the changing hours of daylight; your writing life might wrap itself around the schedule of your school-age children.
The point is, learn what your process is, and then develop ways of participating with it rather than fighting it. Don’t force a schedule that doesn’t work well with your personal rhythms. Don’t apply a list of marketing tips to an idea that has barely formed yet.
Creativity is a mode of living. It is alive and commands gracious attention. As you learn what works for you and what doesn’t, you’ll come up with creative ways to respond to your gifts and desires. That’s the really cool thing about creativity—the possibilities go on and on. The more you learn to work with the process, the more you’ll discover that the process is much more flexible than it seemed at first. Maybe you can’t write well in the evening, but you can write decently while waiting in a doctor’s office. Maybe you need to work with an outline to begin, but your outline can take the form of a sketch or a poem. Maybe you have to take a break after two hours of work—but you find that a brisk walk or ten minutes of Baroque music energizes you for the next two hours.
There’s so much that could be included under this topic, but just go with this: If you learn to work with your creative process, the product will come, and it will be a rich offering indeed.
Copyright © 2009 Vinita Hampton Wright
This is a great post. Sometimes I wonder if life doesn't force this lesson upon us, somewhere around those middle years of life, when much energy has been spent chasing "product." At least that seems to be true for me. I remember reading The Soul Tells A Story and finally feeling like someone was giving me permission to just breathe. To learn to enjoy the mess of words on the page and trust that something would come together in time, if I was patient. I still stress about "product" all too often but more and more, I am learning to enjoy, and trust, the process and I feel like I am becoming more whole as a result.
Posted by: dianne | August 10, 2009 at 10:28 AM