Writing is hard. Really hard. Harder than you can even imagine. Some days it flies by, and I suddenly realize I’ve been writing for hours on end. Other days … well, let’s just say I’m spending most of my time searching for those pesky little writing gnomes. They have abandoned me many times along the way, only to suddenly return expecting me to accept their clumsy attempts at an apology. We aren’t on speaking terms at the moment.
But … it’s creative writing, you say! How could creative writing, an avenue that provides a completely open forum to express yourself and your thoughts, be that hard? I mean, you just start writing whatever comes into your head, right?
Yes … and no. The trick is in the details. The basic outline I have for the novel takes me all the way to the end of the story, but I have to fill in the details. Every word, every conversation, every action, every narrative section has to answer all the burning questions and come straight from my imagination. And my imagination has taken a leave of absence multiple times over the past six months.
When I was young, my imagination overflowed with creativity and originality to the point that I couldn’t put the pencil down. As I’ve gotten older, that connection to the world of dreams has lessened. A loss of innocence that breaks my heart and makes me appreciate the wild thoughts and ideas that my daughter shares with me at times.
She doesn’t love to write, but she likes it at times. Her passion is drawing. She loves to sketch, draw, create masterpieces of her own imagination. I love that she enjoys these things, as I can’t even draw a proper stick man. Seriously, my students laugh at me when I try.
Creativity and imagination in any venue is something to celebrate. The human mind is a wondrous, magical thing that somehow remembers the things it never knew, instinctively climbing onto the shoulders of the past. When we lose it, when we tumble, the way back up may be arduous and slow, but that well-worn path is still there.