So I decided to quit just talking about it, stalling, making excuses, waiting to win the lottery, etc – I decided to stop doing all that and just start writing my book. I came up with what I think is an excellent plot and made the decision to write in third person narrative. I even wrote a couple of posts in the book blog to get it started. But I am finding it more difficult than I had hoped it would be. And I think the biggest reason for that is the fact that it is more like work than creating right now.
When I wrote all that poetry back in the late 80’s early 90’s, it just flowed out of me. It was like I was possessed or something : the words would strike me out of nowhere, and it was as if my mind had entered a stream that was already rapidly flowing. I didn’t have to think about what the next word or phrase would be – it literally just poured of it me. It was cathartic and somewhat awe-inspiring, especially considering I had never even read nor liked poetry.
And that dynamic lasted on and off for about 5-6 years I think. Who knows how many poems I wrote during that time. I ended up throwing most of them away (stupid) after getting sober because they reminded me of using, and I’m sure I was high when I wrote the majority of them. I honestly wish I hadn’t done that, as there was some really good stuff among them, and I feel like I have lost a window into myself that I can’t really get back. But my sobriety was – IS – more important to me than anything, including my writing, so I chucked it all.
Whatever that creative stream was that caused that outflow of writing, it stopped sometime in the late 90’s and has yet to return. I think that’s part of the reason I threw all of them out too – because they seemed to be an indicator that I could only be creative when high, and now that I was sober, I wouldn’t experience that again. And that was – is – a bitter pill to swallow.
Now, I am trying to break the cycle of excuses and actually write a book. Thing is, it’s not “flowing” at all. I have to pretty much force myself to write anything. Hence, I’m here writing on my blog instead of over there adding more to the story. I have the ideas in my head of what I want to say, but there is just so much that it gets hard to figure out what to put down. I start to think of something, then find myself saying “yeah, but that’s SO much to write, ugh.” My sloth comes through, and I just end up avoiding it. Needless to say, things are looking too good for the whole book thing at this point.
And I was thinking to myself this morning that maybe that’s ok. I am happy with life right now, and have a good job making a good salary. Sure, I would love to get a career as a writer going, but at the same time, I would want it to be something I enjoy – wouldn’t want it to feel like a task. I actually found myself thinking, wishing there was some kind of “mind reader” device I could use to record my thoughts, which I could then write down. I could use a voice recorder, but that’s tough at night when the wife is trying to sleep. It still seems like winning the lottery is my best possible chance at writing a book lol.
But the old adage says “when the student is ready, the teacher appears.” I am hoping that transfers over to writing, such that “when the book blog is ready, the novel muse appears.” We’ll see. So far, there’s no real sign of her. But I am keeping my eyes, mind, body and spirit open in hopes that I can come to know that it wasn’t just the drugs that spawned the creativity. I have found that I am again experiencing coin-incidences, synchronicities, intuitions and other phenomena again, FINALLY. It would be wonderful if this too could return. I’m hoping – and praying for it!