What Do I Write?

How many times as authors do we sit down with the intention of writing and our minds blank out? Too often from my perspective. Too often we allow ourselves to believe we have nothing viable to say in this world. Too often we switch over to Hearts or Spider Solitaire or simply get up and walk away.

I wise person advised me in a recent hub that sitting down with the full intent of writing a poem or a story often disallows us that opportunity because we place too much pressure or emphasis on our intent. Creativity is organic in nature. Forcing it to happen tends to yield opposite results.

This does not mean we walk away. We must simply give ourselves permission to write crap. Generally we know when our writing is not up to par. When an author takes the time to relax and key whatever is on his or her mind, that author finds release from the daily pressures and eventually gets to a place of creativity.

I have been mired in work - publishing - for six months. My writing has suffered. I allowed myself to believe everything I wrote for 'work' would take care of that creative muse living in the dark recesses of my heart.

Wrong. I do cherish the fact that writing in my 'work' situation can be rewarding. In fact, all writing is 'creativity' by definition. But that 'fiction muse' within me screams for release these days. She stomps around my heart, petulant and moody, glaring each time i pass by and ignore her. Eventually (which is now), my heart gets worked up into a decidedly unsettled state where I become moody, depressed and anxious.

Then I sit down to write. I know, I KNOW, what will spill forth will take the world by storm and everyone will see I truly am driven by this incredible 'fiction muse' who will dazzle the minds and hearts of any reader who stumbles across her work.

Then my fingers freeze up - only a symptom of what moments before happened to my brain. The muse balks. She screams, "Screw you! You weren't there for me when I wanted to come out, why should I be there for you now!"

Frustration, fear, questions of confidence in my writing ability all spring forward and the result often is paralyzation. The way out of this situation is to simply write. Write bad poetry. Be willing to look at a poem that grates on the nerves and mind and heart and write another. Pop out a short story. Throw fiction on its collective ear and write something you four year old could improve on.

Permission to write crap. I should have titled this Hub "Permission to Write Crap." There are times when the process of picking a writing topic is a mystery to me. One Ellery Queen couldn't figure out on his best day. I have no clue where I want to go with my writing, what I want to say nor how to say it even if I did know. As the subtitle above states, the point is to write.

When I played basketball, I would shoot foul shots over and over and over. I got to where I shot over 80% from the line. About a month ago I decided to shoot foul shots again to see where I was. The first ten were not the greatest so I allowed myself the 'warm up' to get me back into the groove. I then proceeded to shoot 83 out of 100. I know how to shoot foul shots. All I needed was a short warm up to get the feeling back.

To me, writing is much the same. Allowing myself some time in the beginning to 'miss' the mark only serves to remind me of what I already know - I can write. I can write well. When my muse sees me writing, she remains defiant, folds her arms in a huff and turns sideways. Yet, as I continue to write and move closer to her, she softens her stance. I continue to write and propel myself forward, discarding the 'rust' and feeling a rhythm, she gets antsy. When I stick with it, start chugging down the rails at increasing speed and intensity, she has no choice but to jump on board because writing is what she lives for.

Backing off the pressure of "I have to write a poem NOW" and allowing my muse to come to me becomes a productive, rewarding experience. The point is to write. One of the things I desire to write may very well be a poem. Once the muse is aboard, diverting her down the poetry track is simple. She will take the track change with glee because she is in her element and I am then along for a great ride!

I noticed a Hub of mine getting a ton of attention today. I wrote it a year ago for Thanksgiving. (http://hubpages.com/hub/A-Writers-Thanksgiving) Very few read it last year. I reread the Hub to see what the interest was all about. Damn, it was good! I forgot I could write like that. My muse wagged an accusing finger at me as if to say, "See? See what I've been so upset about? You can do this and more if you'll just let me."

I'm making a commitment to myself to allow permission to write crap become a part of my daily writing life. I will produce the poetry and I will produce the books that haunt me from my heart. The writing that demands attention. The writing I crave to produce. I'll do it with my muse. The point is to write. I hope you will give yourself permission to write crap. Ultimately, you give yourself permission to play with your muse and create that which haunts you and needs to come out. You will write what completes you as an author.

Is there anything better than that?