It sucks to be in a dry spell. When I’m not writing I just feel, well, less. Less me. Less creative. Less observant. Less engaged. And when I write, I feel “more.” More me, more inventive, alive.
Even when I’m wrestling with an image, staring at the jumbled order of a sentence, or blinking at a formless blob of text resisting revision, something deep within purrs and bubbles with a giddy delight. I made this.
Today’s tip (2 of 3) offers another way to raise your creative spirits above the claptrap of the holidays:
Tip #2: Seek joy and delight as you write.
The next time you write, bring your attention to more than the crafting of words. Periodically notice the way you feel as you write—and tune into the joyful moments.
Look for joy inside a word’s chewy syllables and gooey vowels. Inside the powerful themes that pump the heart-muscle of your work.
Find joy in the pleasing syntax of a sentence.
Listen to sounds resonating small and large from the center of your page—the creaking of trees, shuffle of children’s feet, or revving of a Chevy. Delight in the quest to capture just the right dialogue between characters at just the right time.
Feel the way joy moves through you as your pen moves across the page and a new turn of phrase changes the direction of your thinking.
Look not just within the words, but at what’s underlying them, and what’s spilling into them from the world around you. Capture it. Tease it out on the page. And feel the joy of the work percolating and then engulfing you.
Or perhaps that delight is subtle as a whisper. Soft as the fur of a resting cat.
Take it in.
Then with a deep breath, return to the page and keep writing.
Delight may be in short supply on the days you crumple your page and throw it at the wall. But what if you believed that joy in the work is always there, no matter the quality of your writing. It’s there to tap into whenever you need it.
(Bonus exercise: Do your own freewrite on what the joy of writing feels like. Five minutes.)