Compelled to Write
I was all set to write today about how changes in our lives and daily routine can affect writing. Indeed, it is a worthwhile topic.
Instead, I shall write about my response to changes…similar, but not the same.
It is true that there are always people worse off than we are, but I’ve had a pretty rough week. Between physical pain and locked up joints, a major move and restructure involving my day job, and technical issues with both blog and website (necessary to facilitate the move to a new look and level of functionality), the abrupt and long overdue termination of an quietly abusive situation with a coworker, and other issues, I’ve felt as if someone pulled the rug out from under my feet.
What interests me is not self pity. I did not write the above paragraph to have anyone feel sorry for me. I simply want you to understand that time was in short supply and the stresses (both good and bad) were real.
It is what I did with the energy, angst, and disruption that interests me. It is what I often do when things are stressful. I wrote. I am compelled to write. The worse the stress, the stronger the compulsion.
My concentration level wasn’t the best, so I knew better than to work in my non-fiction book. I found, instead, that working on my novel was both soothing and productive. In fact, I added 6000 words to it last week.
When I needed a break from pounding the keys, I branched (mindmapped, using Freemind) my business plan, the outline for the non fiction book (so I could have a visual image) and a short story. Although branching isn’t necessarily writing, it is a good form of pre-writing.
Some people write very well under stress. I just write. Often, the output is useless outside of my personal journal. When I sat down Sunday night to read it all, I was certain I’d find mostly crap. To my surprise, I didn’t. The branching diagrams were complete. The fiction flowed well and opened up a new section of the story. My journal entries did not dwell on recent events, but rather where the writing was going and what was needed to fulfill a few writing commitments on my calendar.
Anne Lamott talks about writers’ schizophrenia. It’s the best explanation I have for the separation of my writing mind from the rest of my life last week. Duality at its most silent. When I wrote, the left brain was too busy with other things to stop me.
There are people who choose to write and people who must write. I am grateful every day for the writing compulsion. It was the one bright, productive spot in my life last week.
Care to share a time when writing became an amazing counterpoint to bad times in your own life? I’d love to hear about it.
Every day of my life these days. It’s my only release.
I am with you on the need to write. It is my outlet. Wether it be on my blog, or just jotting down ideas for things I would like to write about.
It is funny though, anytime I sit infront of my computer it is as if my brain shuts down and my fingers start dancing. Just like the Salsa dance or Jazz. The best time to master it is when you are dead tired and have nothing left in the grey matter to give any more, your body takes over and it becomes almost an unconcious yet rythmic flow.
There are many posts that I can honestly say, I wrote, went back and read, and was shocked to see what came out on the computer screen.
Generally when I’m stressed, I pour myself into research and writing (a combination actually). I also have music going in the background–it furthers the process.
I completely agree. Writing is my solace and my joy. Some people need chocolate. I need a good book–either mine or someone elses.
Hey, folks, and welcome.
@ Matthew: Thank God for writing. What would we do without it?
@Sal: It seems some of the best stuff comes when we aren’t even paying attention, doesn’t it? I’ve never figured out why, but sure enjoy it when it happens.
@Dara: I did some research, but mostly wrote. Funny how grounding it is for us.
@Amber: Well, lol, I need chocolate, too, but given the choice, I’ll always take pen and paper over anything else!
I think those of us who use writing as a process (as Natalie Goldberg describes it), the way we make sense of life, the compulsion is strongest. If I couldn’t write, I’m certain I’d have ended up in one of those fancy white dinner jackets (you know, the one with buckles and long sleeves…hehe) and dining in a padded room. I am SO grateful I was born a writer. I just can’t imagine life without that release.
B J