In December I posited the theory that I needed to be either more bored or more angry in order to charge to my computer and do some writing. I also wondered if hormonal changes might prompt me to bash out something brilliant and creative. Well. It seems I was wrong on at least two of those counts. Boredom is no longer the thing that makes me yearn to write. It's now the thing that makes me think about what to have for tea, or whether there is any CSI on the TV. I am considering how to turn these urges into something more creative, but the truth is that even that thought process requires more creativity than I can currently muster.
The hormonal theory is a bust too. I'm currently 18 weeks pregnant, and my main concern is not cranking out the written word, but mulling over children's names and huffing about not being able to eat certain types of cheese. Maybe when the sprog arrives I'll be swept away with the desire to write stories for it... At the moment this prospect seems unlikely, since I'm pretty sure that the only desire I'll be swept away by is for sleep.
So that leaves anger. And actually this does make me write - it makes me write whingy biting emails to friends explaining what has just happened to annoy me. Not exactly the most creative thing in the world, although I do attempt to start these emails with "Once upon a time".
So that leaves a theory that I don't think I mentioned before, but I KNOW it works. It's called "Deadline". Nothing motivates me more than a brief and a deadline. Give me those (and the incentive of getting paid never hurts either...) and I am away. This is good news for potential employers. Not so much for me and my desire to build up a portfolio of finished work... I have tried giving myself deadlines, by the way... It seems that as my own boss I am stunningly easy to ignore.
Oh well. At least I've written this. Well done me.
The hormonal theory is a bust too. I'm currently 18 weeks pregnant, and my main concern is not cranking out the written word, but mulling over children's names and huffing about not being able to eat certain types of cheese. Maybe when the sprog arrives I'll be swept away with the desire to write stories for it... At the moment this prospect seems unlikely, since I'm pretty sure that the only desire I'll be swept away by is for sleep.
So that leaves anger. And actually this does make me write - it makes me write whingy biting emails to friends explaining what has just happened to annoy me. Not exactly the most creative thing in the world, although I do attempt to start these emails with "Once upon a time".
So that leaves a theory that I don't think I mentioned before, but I KNOW it works. It's called "Deadline". Nothing motivates me more than a brief and a deadline. Give me those (and the incentive of getting paid never hurts either...) and I am away. This is good news for potential employers. Not so much for me and my desire to build up a portfolio of finished work... I have tried giving myself deadlines, by the way... It seems that as my own boss I am stunningly easy to ignore.
Oh well. At least I've written this. Well done me.
Well done you! (I love that expression) I don't know, I think sometimes we have times where we use our creative selves in other ways. Like when I went through my cooking stage (I deep friend Onion Bhajis, which I've never done again). I know you hate writing blogs, but you must read this post, called 'how to embrace your naked ambition and make your subsconsicous your bitch'. Just for the title alone. I thought it was inspiring. If I was good at tweeting, I'd tweet it: http://bit.ly/iuCjhi
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