Creativity is an Ecosystem Part 3

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Imagine within yourself a pond, surrounded by green ferns, grass, and stones slick with mud and algae. Above, trees filter the sunlight and wind. It is calm, and quiet. A frog leaps from the edge of the pond, splashes into the water. An insect whizzes through the air. Somewhere out of sight, a bid call echoes.

This is what creativity looks like.

 

Poisoning the well, and saving it too

Creativity is a community of thoughts, feelings and basic personal desires, the smallest elevating the next, until it reaches its ultimate state, at which point it returns to feed the smallest of the group. Creativity is an ecosystem that is fragile, finally tuned, and beautiful. Like any ecosystem, however, the well of creativity can be poisoned.

In my first post on this topic I explained that the trees and stones surrounding the pond are the protection for the community… the conscious choices of what to consume and how it will affect your creativity. My example is that I can’t read books that are too close in theme or genre to what I am currently writing… it just confuses me, or I try and borrow voice, or some ideas that are too clearly not mine creep in.

But there are other ways to poison the well.

One is not reading at all. In every workshop I’ve ever been in, there is at least one person who says (I’m paraphrasing) “I don’t read very much… I prefer to get my stories from video games or TV.” And you know what, it always shows. Considering that we are people, and we spend our days around other people, it can be very hard to write real people with real dialogue. Perceptions of people, of what humanity really is, tend to get distorted by the symbols of people that show up in video games, and a lot of TV. Obviously there are exceptions, but I don’t think there are enough exceptions to make up the difference, especially when flash is so important here. In books our attention can be drawn to the micro-interactions that really make people what we are, and you know what, the longer I live the more I am convinced that Humanity exists in the micro…. In the subtle, fleeting moments that are so easy to miss. Reading is so, so important to writers… the act of reading, the choosing of what to read, and when to read it based on your internal climate.

The other major poisoning factor to the ecosystem of creativity is criticism. This is the one that can really poison the water, and even the soil around it.

I’ve seen good writers, and good people, totally shut down projects because someone made an unkind comment… and it can be so hard, hearing that something you’ve put hours and self into is not what you thought it was.

The only antidote to this poison is to rely on the community within yourself. As you live your life and your experiences filter into your creative ecosystem, they renew it. If one idea is hurt, or damaged, its tiny little wings clipped, then take comfort in the fact that there are hundreds and hundreds of ideas within you, just waiting to be noticed. There are whole generations of ideas waiting as the water and the mud slowly draw out the poison and disperse it. If one project can’t make its jump, know that there are more within you, and maybe this one can be absorbed by the next. And if your masterpiece can’t fly, trust the system of your creativity, to always be willing to refine and retune and remake until your art takes to the skies.

Talent versus Endurance

I’ve been writing since I was fifteen years old, staying up late so as not to be bothered, drinking tea and and eating Pop Tarts. Ten years later and the only things that have changed are that I now drink coffee, and write early in the mornings with toast.

In all this time, I’ve never learned if I have any natural talent or not.

I’ve met people in workshops who effortlessly weave a paragraph together that makes me want to cry it is so good. I’m not sure if other people can say that about me.

What I do have, though, is endurance, and dedication. I show up, caffeine and carbs in hand, and I write, and write, and write, until I get it right. I learn the hard way, I learn the fun way, and I practice what I learn.

John Donne wrote about two types of writers, the Ox and the Cat. The Ox is the writer who lumbers along every day, ploughing the field of pages. The Cat is the writer who lounges and lazes and sleeps in the sun, then in a fit of natural skill leaps up and catches a bird, and that bird is a masterpiece.

I guess that makes me an Ox, and I’m madly jealous of Cats, (and with that sentence I wave away the remainder of my sanity) but more than anything, I am just grateful to be a writer at all.

I would not ever want to be anything else.

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Knowing my writing style has helped me write better, to accommodate my own needs as a writer, and to make use of my strengths. I know what I need to write, as an Ox, so now I turn the question to you:

What are you, Ox or Cat?

A brief note about life

Never forget how long it really is.

Never take for granted how easy it is to regret the whole damn thing.