The Creative Process

Whether it’s music, painting, jewelry making…pretty much anything within the realm of the arts, it requires vision on the part of the person doing the creating.  Something they see or hear will spark an idea and presto!  They will begin to create what they’ve seen in their mind.  This is the same for me when I’m writing a book, article or blog.  Something will spark an idea in my mind and it will blossom into a story.

With each book I write, I have an idea about what is going to happen in the story – it’s not so much an outline as it is a general feeling of what the plot is and what the characters will go through.  Unfortunately, as I begin to write said story, I normally encounter that feeling that I’m all too familiar with; the feeling that what I’m writing is complete and total crap.  I’m not in my groove yet.  This is when I will put the book aside and seek a new, fresh idea, seeking the one that I’ll fall in love with and be compelled to write.

Once I completed my second novel, I began this process.  What do I write about now?   What will keep readers interested?  Is there a story I can tell that hasn’t been told a thousand times before?

I started a story that I thought was a pretty good one.  A few thousand words in, I got that familiar feeling once again:

My writing is pure crap.

Still, I save the file because you never know and…well, I have a hard time with the delete button.  To me, it’s sort of like cutting off a finger.  So, I closed the file after carefully saving my less than stellar work and then began the process of searching for another story to tell.  But, in the back of my mind, this story lingered.  I still felt it was a good one.  It was just didn’t feel it yet; my writing wasn’t worthy of the story.

Then, I got another idea.  Excitement brewed inside of me.  This…this was the one!  This will be the next bestseller!  I began writing…I got several thousand words in and then a familiar feeling started to creep up on me.  I reviewed several paragraphs of my work and felt that once again, my writing was lacking something.  If only I knew what.

So, I saved my work and closed the file, again.

Defeated, yet again, I sought out a new idea.

But the second story, just like my first one, lingered in the back of my mind.  I couldn’t help but still think about those characters and that I’d somehow let them down.  They were unfinished, incomplete.  Their story was a good one; one that needed to be told.  I just needed to figure out the best way to tell it.

I continued my search for the Holy Grail of stories.  I waited for something to happen that would spark such an idea.  Before long, one came along and I began to jot things down.  I mulled over the storyline in my head, creating characters and plotting.  It was going along smoothly.

I was feeling really great about this one.

Until I hit the wall.  I sighed heavily and saved my work once again.  Good feeling gone.

If you’ve been counting, you’ll see that I’ve now started three books, all of which have been put aside and are currently in varying stages of completion.

The thing is, these stories are good; they’re really good.  It’s just that I’m not feeling as though my writing is as good as it ought to be.  When I see the story on paper, it’s just not as good as the version in my mind was.

I now find myself in the middle of these three stories, both unwilling and unable to give up on any of them.  They need to be written because I love all of them.  I can’t choose which one I should focus on.  Seriously, it’s like choosing which one of your children to take on a vacation. You know you’ll take the other two later, but why should you have to leave one at home now?

So, I’ve given up my Sophie’s Choice dilemma and decided to keep working on all three of them whenever the mood for one of them strikes me.  If one character gives me an idea, I’ll write it.  If I think of a scene for one of the books, I’ll write that.  I keep going between my three books, writing whatever comes to mind.

I’ve resigned myself to the fact that there is no right or wrong way to write.  Like any other creative process, you do what works best for you.

And it’s all good.

Donna Small is the author of Just Between Friends and the forthcoming novel, A Ripple in the Water.  Both novels are published by Second Wind Publishing.  You can visit her at DonnaSmall.com.

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My Technology Addiction

This past Sunday, my daughter, Emily, wanted to make some cookies.  I’d just inherited one of those fancy mixers from my grandmother and this would be the perfect opportunity for me to try it out.

Perusing the kitchen, I realized we were out of several key ingredients so the two of us hopped into the car and headed to the grocery store.

About three minutes after leaving the house, I did the instinctive “reach into the pocketbook to make sure my phone is there” and quickly realized I had forgotten it at home.

Now, you’d think this wouldn’t be a big deal.  I was traveling about five miles away from the house to a populated area; not heading out into the Great Frontier.

But still, this was my cell phone.  I felt the panic begin to creep in…

What if I’m in a car accident?

How will I call 911?

What if I drive the car off a cliff?  (Totally irrational thought since I live in Clemmons and not the Grand Canyon, but that’s the panic talking.)

What I’m trapped for days in my car and have no way to contact anyone?

Trying to hide the panic I felt, I looked at my daughter and said, “I forgot my phone.”

Instinctively, she patted the pockets of her denim shorts and realized she, too, had left her device at home.

My palms began to sweat.  (Not kidding.)  I was (gasp!) out of reach and would be unavailable by text, email and phone for the better part of an hour!

What if I was needed?

What if a text was sent to me and I was unable to respond until I returned home?  (I should mention here that the most important text I have ever gotten is my husband telling me he’d be home later that originally planned.  It’s not like the president has ever texted me to ask for my advice on some foreign policy issue.)

I took some deep breaths and told myself how ridiculous these thoughts were.  After all, I’m not that important.  If I’m out of reach for an hour or so, I ’m pretty certain the world will continue to turn on its axis.  I also need to remember that somehow I managed to survive the first half of my life without a cell phone.  As a matter of fact, when cell phones first came out, I was resistant to carry one. I’d survived thus far without one, why change now?

Of course, it wasn’t long before I caved.

I purchased a cell phone and carried it with me. Initially, I had one of those basic plans that allowed one to make phone calls in their home calling area.  Outside of that, the costs were extensive.  After a few short years, I upgraded to the nationwide plan – you know, because I travel so much – (not!)

In any event, it wasn’t too much longer before my contract was up for renewal and I was able to purchase a new phone.  Of course, I was woo’d by the newer smart phones and upgraded to something much more sparkly than I had previously.  Fast forward a few upgrades and my phone was also a camera, IPOD, GPS, was able to receive emails, and had internet access.

Thus began my Dependence on Electronics.

I now carry my phone with me at all times, even on my daily walks.   Anytime I am in the car, it is taken out of my pocketbook and placed on the center console.  I will frequently reach to touch it as though making sure it is still there and hasn’t mysteriously evaporated into thin air.

It is beside me each night when I sit and read in the living room and it is on the nightstand beside me when I sleep.  If asked why, I will tell you that it’s because I use my phone as my alarm clock, but really, it’s because I can’t stand the thought of it being out of my sight.  (Well, that and the fact that my publisher may need to call me at 4am to inform me that my book just hit the New York Times Bestseller list….I can dream, can’t I?)

This need to be constantly connected is somewhat disconcerting.  It has led to a bit of laziness on my part.  I’ll admit, I have texted my daughter upstairs in her room instead of actually walking up the stairs and I’ve done the same to my husband.   Why walk up a flight of steps when you can simply thumb a few keystrokes?

That being said, I’ll freely admit to having a pretty heavy reliance on technology and I’m not entirely sure it’s a good thing.  Yes, I want to be able to reach my daughter when I’m not with her or text my father who lives 900 miles away, but do I really need to break out in a cold sweat when realizing that my cell phone has been left alone for thirty minutes?  The answer is no.

Unfortunately, in this day and age, I doubt my reliance on this tiny piece of electronic equipment will change anytime soon.  However, I do pledge to walk up those steps to speak to my family members, even if it means I will lose my place in my book.  After all, the face of my daughter is something I never tire of seeing.  She’s worth a walk up a flight of steps.

I am pleased to report that my daughter and I survived our trek to the grocery store sans technology. I somehow managed to avoid the treacherous cliffs that are so prevalent in Clemmons and returned home safely without a scratch on either of us.  Emily and I were ready to begin our cookie-making.

However, upon my arrival home, my husband informed me that he tried to reach me.  Apparently, the Sunday paper wasn’t delivered and he wanted me to purchase one at the store.

And I missed the call…..

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