Thursday, June 22, 2017

How To Stop Being A Writer in 5 Easy Steps

Ever since I was old enough to hold a pencil to paper, I knew I wanted to "write and draw" for the rest of my life.  It was always my answer when people asked me, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"  I'd reply, "I want to write and illustrate books."  It's been the one constant truth I've known about myself for as long as I can remember.

Then life happened, and here I am, wondering how I got here.  Not a writer.  Not an artist.

So, in case you're a writer or creative person, and you'd like to learn all my secrets of how I stomped that dream right out, I thought I'd share with you my easy five-step process to stop being a writer, or being creative at all, for that matter.  (The following is written with tongue firmly in cheek.)  

STEP 1.  Don't Prioritize or Schedule Your Time.
Let the pressures and demands of everyday life get in the way of making time to create or write.  Convince yourself that "you'll have time later".  And for heaven's sake, don't set any schedules; why would you want to confine yourself?  Tell yourself to just wait until creativity hits and you'll sit down and write then.

Pixies by Brian Froud
STEP 2.  Don't Listen to Your Muse.  Listen to the Pixie Instead.
In Greek mythology, there was a Muse for each type of art, and these Muses would inspire, encourage, and aid creative people in making their art. Thus our phrase about "listening to your Muse" when creating.  Well, don't listen to your Muse.  Instead, listen to your Pixie.  Now I'm not talking about a darling little Disney fairy with glittering wings, sprinkling fairy dust everywhere.  I'm talking about the dangerous Pixies from folklore; the ones that enjoy leading travelers astray, leaving them lost and disoriented in the woods. The Pixies that like to trick and confound and whisper lies.  I'm pretty sure if we all have a Muse, then we must also have a Pixie. Believe your Pixie when she whispers in your ear, "You're not good enough.  No one will want to read that.  Why are you even trying? Do you really think you can write? You'd better just quit."  Sure, Pixies have a bad reputation, but you should trust yours. The more you listen to her, the harder it will be to hear your Muse.  Listen long enough, the Muse will stop talking to you altogether.

STEP 3.  Forget How to Play.
Don't just sit down and play with words, or write whatever comes into your head.  Don't write simply for the pure joy of stringing words together. You should have a fully-realized three-act storyboarded plot with clearly developed characters all figured out in your mind along with a clear publication goal, marketing strategy, and an agent on speed dial before you ever sit down to the keyboard. Writing prompts and exercises are also a waste of time.  And while we're at it, don't ever doodle either.

STEP 4.  Ignore Your Biggest Fans.
There will be well-meaning cheerleaders in your life.  They are the ones who always ask what you're working on and can they read it.  They will encourage you to keep writing.  They will talk about how gifted you are and give you countless reasons why you shouldn't give up.  They're biased because they love you.  Smile and nod at them, because they mean well, but don't listen to them.

STEP 5.  Don't Read or Write.
This seems like a ridiculously simple and obvious step, but it must be said.  The way to stop being a writer is to avoid the written word.  Don't read books; they might inspire something creative in you or spark an idea and you'll feel the urge to write it down.  Best not to open the cover of a book and be potentially tempted. And of course, don't write. Whenever you feel the urge to write, just settle down in front of the TV for some Netflix and chill instead.  The urge will pass.

Follow these steps for a day or two, and they will start to add up and compound upon one another, days will turn into weeks, which will turn into years and, voila, you will stop being a writer.

(Removing tongue from cheek.)

Let my life be a terrible warning.  Don't do what I have done.  Learn from my mistakes.

I now find myself fighting to crawl out of the creative pit I'm in because of committing these very missteps.  Whenever I sit down to write, the rusty gears grind so bad I can almost audibly hear them.  I don't believe creative folks like myself intentionally set out to stop creating, but that internal drive, motivation, desire - whatever it is - has to scream louder than the rest of the world. It has to demand your attention.  And sometimes that voice can get quiet.  But take heart, Gentle Readers.  Hold out a little hope for me yet.  I'm still trying.

I wrote this, didn't I?  ;-)

Thursday, May 18, 2017

It Doesn't Remind Me of Anything

Chris Cornell, 2016 -
My husband woke me up this morning with the news.  Lead singer of Soundgarden and Audioslave, Chris Cornell, is dead.  Still fuzzy-headed from sleep, I whimpered "noooo" and cried into his shoulder.

I spent the day listening to Soundgarden, Audioslave, and his solo music, and memories came flooding back.  I randomly posted the following thoughts to social media as they came to me.  I'm collecting them here, mostly for myself, but to also connect with those who find that his music was part of the soundtrack to their lives.

My house didn't have cable growing up. I was able to see MTV sometimes at a friend's house, but most of my friends' families couldn't afford cable either. When I got to college, basic cable was provided in the dorm rooms and, believe it or not, MTV actually played music videos back then. Looking back now, it's amazing I passed my freshman year of classes with all the MTV and Comedy Central being piped into my room. Whenever the video for the song "Outshined" came on, I would stop whatever I was doing to listen/watch.
That music.
That voice.
To this day, whenever I hear this song, I'm immediately nineteen years old again, watching MTV with my roommates.

Chris Cornell, 1991 - 
The very first time I ever met my (now) husband, we started our conversation over a shared interest in the band Queensr├┐che and then proceeded to bounce all over the wide-ranging and eclectic genres of music that we both loved. It was crazy unusual for me to find someone who shared such varied tastes in music. We were so absorbed in our conversation and talked for so long that everyone else who was with us left and went home. Consequently, I needed a ride, so he offered to give me a lift back to my dorm room and one of us suggested a CD exchange. I had the new Tori Amos CD, Under the Pink (told you our tastes are eclectic) and he had the new Soundgarden CD, Superunknown.

As I ran up the seven floors to my dorm room to grab the CD and run it all the way back down to him while he waited curbside in his truck, I remember thinking I could hardly stand the wait to hear the new Soundgarden. Pretty sure I listened to it that night.
The new album didn't disappoint.
And it gave me an excuse to talk to my husband again.

Whenever I hear a song off the Superunknown album, or even see the cover art, I remember that night and how giddy I was about the connection I'd just made with a fellow music-lover.  Little did I know at the time he'd end up being my boyfriend, and later, my husband. The two of us always joke that we have Queensr├┐che to thank for our getting together, but in retrospect, Soundgarden had a part to play too.

I'm thankful for the music and, more importantly, for the memories they conjure up.  Rest in peace, Mr. Cornell.  Thank you for leaving behind your artistry, your lyrics, your voice, and your dark beauty.

I will leave you, Gentle Readers, with my favorite song by Chris Cornell, written about my favorite novel, Great Expectations.  It's perfection.