The trails and tribulations of trying to shit creativity…

So, another couple of days have passed and you’re probably mad at me for not posting. Well, you’ve had enough apologies from me. I shan’t bore you with another. It’s… difficult, trying to make this all come together. In my head, I know what I want to put out into the world. But there’s a problem in translating thoughts into words and no matter how many times I bang my head into the keyboard, there’s no easy way to squeeze that crap out of there.

So, what? What next? Well, my two half-finished posts suggest that maybe this isn’t the right time to force a feature blog, but there’s other things we can talk about.

I never made any new year’s resolutions, did you? I find that who I am on the first of January isn’t always the person I’ll be a few months, or weeks, or even days down the line. I don’t smoke, so I don’t need to quit. Sure, I could do with eating healthier, or taking up more exercise, but why do I need the start of a year to try and work myself into shape? I’m not motivated by new year’s resolutions, and I think the novelty of it wears off quickly for most people. Can you even remember what last year’s resolutions were? Probably not, because a year can be short, but it can also be long. We’ve developed and adapted.

The only thing that I really want to be powered towards is my book. As I mentioned before, I’ve taken a new approach to writing and I’ve got a lot of support backing me. The pressure is a nice reassurance. I’d never have gotten any of my university work done if there hadn’t been deadlines. Procrastination is one of my finest qualities, and without that structure, my writing always falls to the wayside.

Finding the right people was also a help. For the five friend’s that I have reading my story, there are dozens of people who aren’t. These are the people who don’t care enough about my progression, or about the genre, or who wouldn’t be confident or comfortable enough to say to me, ‘What are you doing here? There’s no structure, not enough padding, not enough character development.’ They’re also people who read, and who enjoy reading, and who know enough about good writing that they can be constructive with their criticisms, and so that they’re not just going to lead me into annoyance or self-doubt.

One of the things I had to overcome to get here was that shadow of doubt, that part of me that questions everything that I do, that would strip away every word until I’m left staring at a blank page asking myself over and over, ‘What do you honestly think you’re doing here?’ I think a lot of people face that every day, and it isn’t until you start to accept that your friends are being honest, aren’t just saying things to make you feel better, and that you finally let yourself accept the compliments and you begin to acknowledge your own worth that you can start to make something of yourself.

Man, I’m starting to get deep.

Another motivational factor this year is the trip that I’m hopefully going to be taking. It may take me a year, but it will definitely take me to New Zealand. I’m almost entirely certain that I’ll be moving in with the Hobbits, and I’ll never be seen beyond the hills of the Shire. The youth of the country, and its bountiful landscapes and the sheer volume of things to do is a powerful draw. I’m desperate to travel the islands, to embrace the richness of the culture and to explore every inch of the wide and wonderful land. I think it’ll help me embrace some of my trapped creativity, but there’s that part of me that wonders if I honestly, actually might never come back.

London has left me wondering where my place in the world might be. I guess I won’t know until I explore.

So, what again of this thing called creativity? It’s not that I’m blank, or running on empty. I have just blabbered on for a good short while. I guess I’m just not in a place where I can sit and compile lists, or make my judgements of things plain and clear. I’ll keep bumping my head against the keys though, just in case.

Until next time.

Live Long and Prosper.


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