In my naïve notes that I wrote up for this blog post before starting off on an insanely long road trip, I wrote “Writing on the Road- About all the tricks and stuff I used to help myself write while traveling”. Ha. So cute.
As mentioned in earlier posts, I didn’t get much writing done. Really, it was all I could do to keep up with blog posts, since I burned through the buffer before the first month was out, and even then I failed on the home stretch when I somehow improperly scheduled a post and it- shocking- didn’t post. (I’m calling this another technofail. They never end.)
Despite the startling lack of bonanza write-a-thons, I don’t feel like the summer was a total waste, as far as writing goes or otherwise. True, there was very little drafting, and very little editing, and not even all that much outlining or active brainstorming. But there was a lot of experiencing going on, and experience is the foundation on which believable fiction rests.
Write what you know is one of the sacred commandments of writing, and there’s good reason for it. Obviously nobody writing today really knows what riding a dragon feels like, or living on a colony embedded deep in an asteroid, or working as an astrologer in the court of Tutankhamen. We make a lot of inferences about the details in our fiction. Riding a dragon probably feels kind of like a cross between riding a horse and a hang glider. Living on an asteroidal colony probably feels similar to living in the Princess Elizabeth Research Station, or the International Space Station, or a fancy underground bunker from the Cold War. As writers, we get as close as we can, and then we make an educated guess.
But there are some things that can’t be fudged. These are the things that will bother a reader like an itch they can’t quite reach. A child whose voice isn’t quite what it should be. A victim shouldering his abuse in a way that feels off somehow. An emotional outburst that’s somehow wrong. These things are much harder to quantify and, in many ways, much harder to peg. But they’re things that, once we’ve experienced them, we can smell a fake from a mile away. And nothing snaps a reader out of a story faster than a fake.
(And then there are the mistakes that just drive the experts crazy, like having your Western hero shoot a Peacemaker three years before the thing was developed. But just because the demographic is small does not mean it’s quiet. Don’t irritate your experts.)
Experiences keep us from making those mistakes. Experience helps us to know precisely what places ache after nine hours in the saddle. But more importantly, experience helps us to transcend the particular setting and to find the truths that are just as relevant to a thirty-year-old woman writing in a closet as they are to a twelve-year-old boy in the second century staving off starvation, or a forty-year-old xenologist encountering their first alien, or a dwarf girl who wants to be a florist when she grows up. And when we have the experiences that give us that insight into human nature, and then we couple it with a mind open to tangents, we give ourselves a powerful recipe for creativity.
When it became clear that I wouldn’t be penning my opus magnus on the road, I instead tried to focus on keeping this recipe for creativity stewing as much as possible. Although I don’t have the write-no-matter-what pearls of wisdom that I hoped to have, I did get some sense of the sorts of things that fostered a creative mindset (and kept me open to new experiences), and the things that killed it. Maybe better people than I can build on merely thinking creatively and actually create creatively.
What hampered creativity
High expectations– Being disappointed in myself was the quickest way to squash my ability to think clearly, let alone creatively. Just like your body needs time to rest after a program of intense dieting or exercise, your brain needs a break too. All my attempts to power through and keep up on my home routine were total failures.
Stress– I know, I know, stress can be hard to avoid when you’re hurdling down the highway for hours upon hours at a time, day after day, and the kids are so over this. But avoid it when you can. If you’re stressing about missing deadlines or flubbing wordcount goals or whatever, your focus is on the failures instead of the opportunities.
An excessive I-got-this attitude– I learned this at the birth of my first child- ask for help. Trying to do everything myself- the cooking, the childcare, the everything all the time- absolutely depleted me, mind and body, leaving no energy for creativity or adventures.
What promoted creativity
Taking care of myself– When I was sick or tired or hungry or desperately iron deprived, creativity did not happen. Mostly tears and anger and hiding under blankets happened instead. Things were just better for the world in general when I made sure the basic needs were met first.
Time for reflection– As weird as it sounds, time was kind of a hot commodity during this vacation. But I found it was very important for my brains to just have sit-and-chill time. I didn’t go into it with the active intent to brainstorm, but it happened naturally, and those are always the best of storms.
Paper at the ready– I know I’ve mentioned this on the blog before, but always, always keep something handy on which to jot notes. There’s just something about having blank paper begging to be filled that gets the juices flowing. This is especially needful when you have other things going on (like funerals, reunions, weddings, and a million visits). My little pocket notebook has tons of little ideas and snippets that I would have forgotten completely if I hadn’t written them down. The paper helps you think creatively, and then it helps you hang on to the things you do come up with.
I had some great ideas while on the road, ideas that I can hardly wait to flesh out and write up. So maybe I only had the time and presence of mind to jot down some don’t-forget-this sort of notes. I’ll count the fact that I was having ideas at all- despite the oppressive heat and despite living out of a car and despite months of nausea- as a victory.