Like the seasons where fall ebbs into winter and the ground lays dormant while it renews, so, too, does our creativity ebb and flow. Sometimes a story grabs us and we get it on paper faster than we ever thought possible. When we come out of the “fog” of writing and read what we wrote, we’re amazed and stunned by the words that had flowed from us. Sometimes we pull words like getting dandelions out of a yard, with much trouble and digging. And sometimes no matter what we do, the words won’t flow at all.
As writers, we need to be aware of the seasons of our creativity. I know myself, my writing ebbed over the last year. Writing was a chore, and one that if I could avoid that would be a great thing. Blog entries were okay, most of the time. Anything else was inconceivable. I’ve heard of authors who suddenly lose interest in the genre in which they write. And I have heard of authors who suddenly stop writing, blocked.
There are a few tips that authors can use to help them understand their seasons of creativity…1) When the muse ebbs understand that this is a natural fact. Take a step back. Do something else. Explore other interests. You never know what will spark the return of the muse.
2) Know when factors in your life are affecting your creativity. Stress on the job, family problems, or other outside influences might impact your writing without your even knowing it. It isn’t until these stressors are gone when you realize what had been happening.
3) Be gentle with yourself. Write what you can, when you can, and give yourself the space to do what you want to do.
4) If a different genre, point of view, or even character grabs your attention, don’t dismiss it. Explore any and all interests for they might lead you back to your main creativity.
5) Don’t isolate yourself. We’ve all gone through periods of writers block. Connect with your fellow authors. You might not be writing, but you can still help others.
In time, like the tulips emerging from the ground, your muse will return. And when it does, like me, you’ll be pleasantly surprised and ready to get back to work.
I view writing as my job. It doesn’t matter how I feel, whether I would rather be in bed, or if I’m sick, or what, I still have to get behind the wheel of the truck and make my run. Writing is the same thing. I put on my hat and drive the bus. Every day. I find the words come because I summon them, while if I wait for them, they dawdle along, like sleepy kids not wanting to go to school.
Mood is a thing for cattle and lovemaking. It has no place where work is concerned.