A Writer's Notebook, Day Five-Hundred-And-Thirty-Five

I was able to get my work done again, though once more it was all in a single bought of writing tonight.  I actually found myself working quite rapidly, even for me, and felt that maybe I had found that knack for pressing on in the work, even when I do not come to the page with a new idea.  In all reality, even when I have a poem burning, it is likely that I don't have ten poems in my head at that moment, so I am likely to reach a point as I do my work where I am without any previous conception.  I think this is often a place of great possibility, where new ideas can take shape.  When I have an idea already, I am not as open to the direction of the work itself, but am guiding it, but at times when I have nothing planned, I can follow what happens recklessly.  That I am writing so much gives me a sense of freedom with that: if a piece fails, if following it leads to a dead end or some other type of problem, it is fine.  Indeed, such mistakes can be great opportunities for growth as a writer, if I learn from them.  Tonight, I definitely was clicking with that mode of allowing the work to unfold without any prescribed plan, and it felt great.  For a long time, I think I had found the way to enter that space, but I've been less regimented with my work lately, and I think it is likely this is a muscle that will atrophy quickly without use.  Fortunately, it feels as though it will come back just as fast, if I can remain diligent.

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