On Creativity

A week in Bangkok for work, and while I had the intention to think about writing and move ahead, I’m not sure if I expected to come away with so many ideas. Talking with Moises, who is also a writer, helped. We compared notes. He thinks about the big picture, what he wants to say as a writer, what a whole piece of work will mean, and then he will work on that. Meanwhile, I work in pieces, and told him the anecdote of being in art class at age ten: asked to draw a self-portrait, I drew myself in pieces, an eye here, an ear there. The teacher was disturbed I think. My excuse then was that it was easier to draw that way. It hinted at a particular way of seeing the world.

I brought many books to inspire me, a mixed bag. I didn’t manage to read any of the Linda Greig poetry book, but I did get through a lot of Ghostwritten by David Mitchell. Some of the stories I like a lot. I don’t like that he switches into British vernacular for most of this characters, no matter they are from, but I’m getting used to it. It felt like a lack of imagination at first, flattening out the different ways people would think around the world, but now I’m just substituting. The Mongolian old woman makes an insult, I imagine an insult in her words rather than the ones that Mitchell gave her. The book inspired me in two ways though: first of all, it’s in parts, and is considered a novel though has nine interconnected short stories. This gives hope to me, who cannot imagine writing a sustained narrative over the length of a novel, and as I pointed to above, thinks in small pieces. The second thing is that Mitchell went on to be nominated for the Booker Prize, and though the stories are exuberantly imagined, I’m not crazy about some of the writing. Hey, it was his first novel, and he wrote it at a younger age than I am now, but I think it results for me in a good sense of competition, not “why did he get published” but “I can do that.”

In the meantime, I’m trying to get inspired to revise “Bowling Pin Fire”, my poetry manuscript. I have worked on these poems so long, and considered them, I’m having real trouble figuring out where to begin an edit. I think I need to write new poems, so aim to read more poetry to inspire me. My writing doesn’t feel so fluid these days, it’s not flowing out.

The other idea was to comb my journal for ideas and phrases and incidents. And to make a more organised list of my notes from various places, notebooks and computer files. To divide them into “phrases”, “anecdotes” and “stories” and start to develop them, no matter which way they turn out, at least I will be doing some writing.

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Things to do when I’m not writing

Looking through the lens of the present at my past entries, I note a few different themes: the desire to write, berating my lack of discipline, some jealousy at other people who write more, and the sense of drifting away from old friendships. The last subject I see as both true and false: I still have that sense of drifting out of contact and yet, through the fairly recently discovered skype, and occasional visits or e-mails, an old friendship becomes suddenly immediate.

That’s not a bad segueway into today’s list: if I’m not working on creative writing, what am I doing? A partial list:

  • Keeping in touch with old friends, mostly e-mail, some skype these days, and I’ve been trying to revive the art of the telephone call, even though the time zones make it difficult in Australia (but how the costs have come down from years ago!)
  • Getting together with friends in Australia – mostly dinner and drinks.
  • Time with my boyfriend
  • Exercise
  • Feeding myself, cleaning and tidying surroundings
  • Making lists of things to do
  • Occasional shows, movies, and other entertainment
  • Work. Preparing for work travel.
  • Keeping in touch with my family.
  • Trying to keep my webpage up to date, mostly photos of my niece and nephew

I often thought that if I worked on something related to writing, then it could count as creative production. So:

  • Writing reviews and short essays
  • Editing and organising previous work or work in progress
  • Reading other people’s writing

But I’m not sure how much that has really contributed to my own work. Meanwhile, I’ve been self-critical in the last few week: how am I going to get writing this year? What am I going to do? Why don’t I have any ideas?

But three nights ago, as I was about to go to sleep, I started playing a quick, bright melody on the piano. When I lay down to sleep, lyrics started coming. First, I recorded some of them on my voice recorder (one doesn’t say tape recorder anymore, does one, when there is no longer tape in them?). And then, too tired to get up and sit at the piano, I grabbed my notebook of songs, scribbled down the rest of the lyrics and finally went to sleep. I sometimes have to work at finding another verse, or spend time rewriting lyrics, but no, this one can out pretty much perfectly and so fast it surprised me. The next day, I added a simple bridge, transposed it to a better key for my voice, and voilá!

I was reminded that during times in my life when I write songs, I really don’t write much literary work – and vice-versa, and I should be grateful for my creativity, and if songs come out instead of stories, let it be. Singing words of wisdom, let it be.

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Taking it to another level

On the same Sunday when the skies softened up with rain, fell apart in a sudden downpour and have now cleared to a two-colour swirl, a paintbrush of white cloud across the blue sky -6:30pm and it’s still so light out- I spent a few hours of the afternoon thinking about what to do with my writing. This year, I’d like to work on something significant. I’d like to put some effort into it. But I have no clear ideas yet what I want to do, what I will do.

I wonder if it’s just a matter of getting started: working on different projects, or simply writing until something takes shape. For some reason, I thought of my long neglected blog. I started it at the start of 2005, and managed to write 11 entries until it languished. I enjoyed some of the writing that I did but I was never sure of what to make of it. I wrote the entries in a voice that was meant to be heard by friends or a broader audience, but I never told my friends about it, and I never publicized the blog.

So, for no reason in particular, today, I will put a link up to this on my website – not in a prominent position, either under “writing” or “about me”, and so it changes the nature of this blog, in a small way. That perhaps I won’t be the only one reading it.

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