Writing

Last week I was eating a late Sunday brunch (love to sleep in on cold winter days) and reading a book about the discovery and translation of the epic of Gilgamesh (The Buried Book by David Damrosch), when several ideas coalesced in my brain and suddenly I had an idea for a new beginning to a novel (or series of novels) I’ve been working on for years.  This sudden magical flash is one of the things I love about writing.  I grabbed my notebook and scribbled down several pages

Had to stop and dig out Joseph Campbell’s The Hero with a Thousand Faces so I could refresh my mind about the kind of journey my heroes might make.  I’ve got bookcases in every room of my house except the bathroom (and that’s missing one only because it’s small and I haven’t gotten around to bolting a shelf to the wall).  Joseph generally resides in my writing office (I’ve got three of his there), along with my collection of SF and fantasy fiction.  Books on writing live there too, along with my old ‘new age collection.’  They all seem to cohabit happily together.

Then the dinger went off on the dryer and I decided to stop writing (since it also had dried for the present) and make the bed while listening to CBC radio.  On Tapestry Mary Hynes was talking to Dacher Keltner about his research into human emotion, particularly compassion, and the idea that humans are wired to be good.  They segued into talking about moments of awe or peak experience, and I thought, that’s what I just had.

Awe can come when you see an amazing sight – a forest of huge redwoods, a beautiful cathedral, a sunset – but it also comes during the creative process, transcending the self.  I’m sure other writers and artists experience this.  Perhaps it’s a kind of addiction, one of the reasons we keep doing it.

Those moments certainly don’t come every day or even every week.  Most of the time writing involves hard work, keeping at it, slogging along even if I feel as if I’m stuck in a swamp for days or weeks.  Then again, I may make progress, and things are working in the story, but not in that exciting, magical way of connection.  I love it when ideas from several swirling clouds zip out and streak across my brain to collide in a totally new arrangement – fireworks or the birth of a world.

Initially I write for myself (though eventually I want to share it with other people).  An idea, a character, a situation, a place comes to mind and gains my interest.  Where is this place?  What people populate it? What happens next?  The journey begins and takes me off in new directions. My brain starts to spark, electrical impulses move through the grey matter, connections are made between cells.

I once read that when you think of a fruit – say an apple or a banana – the parts that make up the whole – smell, look, taste, feel – come from different areas of your brain.  It’s not surprising, then, that creativity uses that ability to make connections from a wide variety of stimuli.

Of course, when the magical moment of inspiration passes in writing or any other creative endeavour, the hard work begins.