Tag Archives: creativity

Day 329: Late-Nighter

I need to write more.

I’ve read about other writers that have set writing times each day. Some specific amount of time each day to put words on the page. I feel like this would work out well for me.

The only issue is finding the time. I already get up pretty early for work. Then, I’m off educating young minds for a good portion of the day. After that, I have to figure out food for the family and do some studying. If I manage to stay awake for that, I could get some writing done, but it’s hard to be inspired when you can barely function.

I used to get a lot of creative writing done late at night. I would stay up and hammer out all kinds of stories. A lot of it was fanfic, but I was still writing. Almost all of my multi-chapter stories were written, edited, or published after midnight. My ideas tend to flow better around 2 a.m.

This was back before I had to be coherent before 6 a.m. every day. When staying awake didn’t have any repercussions. Things are much different now.

I think my brain is slowly making adjustments. I’ve been taken with several little ideas during working hours. My fairy tale story is piecing itself together slowly. I can tell you that it will either include a princess or several elemental creatures. They won’t leave me alone.

I can’t always stop what I’m doing to write it down and some of my thoughts escape later recall. That’s the real tragedy here.

Also, when I’m too sad to think, writing is out of the question. I can’t barely stop hating myself to carry out basic life functions. You can forget anything creative. Waste of time. The winter/holiday season is usually hard on me. I get stuck in some real, unpleasant feelings. I can’t write and I feel bad about not writing which makes me not write more and that makes me feel worse.

And so on and so on and so on…

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Day 216: Calm Hues

Yesterday felt really nice.

I spent most of the day away from the internet. My son and I colored while watching Bob Ross reruns in the afternoon.

I needed the time to get out of my own head. Coloring was calming and having Bob Ross’ creative encouragement in the background made it more meaningful for both of us. I don’t color very often, but its a real pleasure. A different way to express the creativity is sometimes necessary.

I used to watch Bob Ross on PBS as a kid. It was always amazing to watch him create beautiful paintings as if it were nothing. On top of that, he always encouraged people to paint along with him. Bob said that one the technique was learned that it was easy. I always wanted to try it. I wanted to create masterpieces, too. I’m not sure why I never did.

Wolf and I binged Drunk History for a while after dinner. It was good to spend some quality time with him. We don’t get much time together when he works most of the day. It sounds dumb to say that I miss someone that I see daily, but this is where I find myself most days.

Hopefully, tomorrow will be mentally peaceful too. It’s the big day.

I’ll be headed back to prepare for a new school year.

Day 199: Writing Again

Today, for the first time in ages, I wrote some fiction.

I did some really creative writing this morning. It feels great to say that again.

I’ve been meaning to for a while. There was a little voice that was demanding to be heard.

Her name is Marigold. She’s five years old and would not leave me alone.

I don’t know if the rest of the world will ever meet Marigold. She’s creative and spunky and a tomboy. I love her to pieces.

I wish I had some talented artist friends.

Day 191: Blank Pages

I’ve wanted to be a writer my whole life.

Sure, I’ve had other career plans; cowboy, pharmacist, archer, etc. but I’ve wanted to write consistently the entire time. I even wanted to major in journalism when I started college.  (Goodness, that feels forever ago now.)

This online thing is nice, but nothing beats pen and paper in my book. Pretty pens and nice stationery get me all excited. I guess the words have more meaning if I write them down. A kind of old magic, I think. Saying things aloud gives words power but writing them down gives them more strength.

I have had lots of journals over the years. Hardcover, softcover, hell even loose leaf. My early writing was mostly random daily thoughts and some poems. I entered one of them in a contest when I was in middle school, I think. It came in second place if I remember correctly.

I’ve tried to keep up with all of them over the years, but Life has a funny way of getting in the way from time to time. For example, there was a blue binder I used to have that was full of my writing from my high school days. There was also a draft of a play I was working on. (Now that I remember it, my idea would have worked better as a novel.) I left it at my mother’s place when I moved out amongst other things. That house has since been destroyed by fire and things that I once thought were invaluable are lost forever.

Time passed and I kept writing. Fanfiction was a way I could work on my craft and get out some of my fangirly feelings. I wrote X-Men and Bleach stories for years. I even wrote a few erotic stories. (Those feelings needed to get out too, you know.)  They’re still online if you want to be bothered to read them, but I don’t think I’ll go back and finish. My heart just isn’t in it anymore. Marvel is trash and Bleach is finished, show’s over.

I have a nasty habit of collecting pretty journals. If one catches my eye, I’m hard pressed to not purchase it. I have lots of them just sitting on shelves in my space. Totally empty. Untouched since I bought them. It bothers me from time to time. I used to have so many stories to tell; so many words that I needed to get out before they escaped me permanently. Now, I’m lucky if I manage to get a hundred words put together every day.  Being surrounded by all these empty pages is kind of like being reminded of my shortcomings. I bought these things with ideas in mind for them; ideas that have faded into the ether of my memories. I have mental illness to thank for that, but I’ve been using that as an excuse for too long.

My goal for myself is to stop being passive with my writing; to stop being lazy and letting my ideas fade away. It doesn’t matter anymore about how poorly organized they are or how depressing they might be. It doesn’t even matter if they never form into a real story. I have to keep flexing my creative muscle or it will die. Its come close a few times already. Losing my ability to use words is something I couldn’t live with.

I’m putting all this into the universe. Stepping out on Faith, as the church ladies say. Writing it down and giving the words the power again. I’m finally ready to do the work. I’m ready to watch doors open in front of me. I’m ready to move forward.

Day 175: Off Day

I woke up this morning and immediately started crying.

There wasn’t anything wrong that I was aware of. Tears were just happening. I couldn’t make them stop.

So, I cried.

As a result, I’m really sensitive today. I wanted to work on some essays today, but it’s very difficult to put sentences together.

I’m going back to bed.