10 Ways for Writers to Hold onto Their Creative Magic

I'm probably more left brained then right brained, and I suspect that shows in this blog. When you see discussions of structure, rules of thumb, organization, and analysis, that's my left brain talking. Nonetheless, I'm a big believer in respecting and nurturing intuition. Most of my posts that include a lot of questions are attempts to explore and get emotionally involved with the elements of story, especially the characters.

Robin Williams said, "You're only given one little spark of madness. You mustn't lose it.”

Whether it’s madness or spontaneity or creative magic, I believe real value in art only comes when you have an active, unfettered imagination. One of the reasons why I espouse writing fast is it's a way to outpace the internal editor and release more unconventional thinking. This may include ideas that are weird, impolite, incorrect, or forbidden. What others discard may be a treasure for an artist, or for society as a whole. In classical mythology, Mercury was a portal god who is liable to allow something from the garbage heap to find an honored place.

Above, I mentioned nurturing. With that in mind, here are some suggestions aimed at keeping creative magic alive in yourself and bearing its gifts, no matter how odd, to society.

• Celebrate eccentricity. Explore society’s misfits. Collect odd historical facts. Treasure the moments when you're surprised or you're unable to make sense of something.
• Respect your dreams. That includes daydreams. Make notes on images, musical phrases, odd juxtapositions, and transformations. And, as you do so, pay attention to how the surreal world you experience affect you emotionally. The more intense the emotions, the more likely that magic is involved.
• Listen more than you talk. Hear the subtext. Watch the body language. Pay attention to the music of the words and the feelings apparent in others and yourself. Do all this in the spirit of connection rather than dissection. Scoring points in a discussion is about hierarchy, and that's not where creativity blossoms.
• Play. It's healthy. It's honorable. It shakes off the rust of rules and presents fresh viewpoints. You might need to spend a lot of time with children to get the full value of this suggestion. Let them be your instructors.
• Make mistakes. If you don't allow yourself to make a mess, you'll have too many fences around your imagination and will be closed off from valuable insights.
• Welcome discomfort. Comfortable journeys only occur on well trod roads. People who blaze new trails face more misery… And more wonder.
• Embrace uncertainty. Most of the interesting questions in life do not have clear and definite answers.
• Enter as an alien. I've taught a world building course with a focus on worlds that are familiar. If you can force yourself to see what you never recognized in your town, neighborhood, and home, you can build a habit of being amazed by life.
• Ask naïve, and even rude, questions. Cultivating humility and curiosity builds a strong foundation for someone who wants to be more creative. a major barrier to opening up the world is thinking you already have the answers. Likewise, though inviting people to tell you their stories could lead to trouble, it's more likely to put you in the glorious, unsafe space of truly understanding and empathizing with people who seem to different to connect with.
• Let your mind wander. If you tend to over schedule, this may mean providing open spaces on your calendar to just be yourself without any tasks or prompts or tensions. Relax and enjoy the moment. Don't take notes.

If you're counting, that's ten suggestions. (And I also sneaked in writing fast and exploring questions.) 

I've long advocated valuing fun as a component of writing well. I think it leads to stories that entertain inspire more often. My suspicion is that any works that delight me came from artists who were delighted. It doesn't mean that only joyful stories matter. Tragedies can delight. The best tragedies do because they embrace being human while being a part of nature.

A Way for Writers to Choose the Best Opportunities

Most writers want to reach an audience. Some just want to see their names and print. Others are looking for money or recognition or the chance to work with creative people. Knowing your short-term and long-term goals will guide you as you consider opportunities to work as a writer or to place your stories.

Pursuing any opportunity is an investment. Time, money, and creative energy are limitless. It's good to make strategic choices rather than react to every opportunity that comes across your path. Now, some people instinctively pursue the best opportunities. If that's you, great. If not, here's a process that you can use directly or as a model for creating your own way of choosing opportunities.

1 The opportunity fits my objectives. If you think in terms of the projects you want to finish or other goals you have for your writing, could this opportunity be helpful? Or, no matter how seductive, is it really for someone else? if the opportunity isn't really for you, set it aside (or possibly offer it to another writer). If it is, proceed to step 2.

2 The opportunity is from a credible source. Sometimes your insights will tell you it's too good to be true. This is particularly likely nowadays when social media is tracking what you're interested in. And, of course, if you submit to some contests or take some courses, you can expect a lot of email filled with promises. If you're unsure, a little research usually clears things up. Don't forget to ask some of your friends who are writers. A thorough investigation isn't the best use of time at this point, but this step is worth returning to before making any investments. If it still looks good, proceed to step 3.

3 The deadline is achievable. Sometimes you find out about an opportunity too close to the due date for forms, polished works, or other required materials. Usually rushing things is a bad idea because it's risky not to present materials that are as good as you can make them. Sometimes, an opportunity looks good enough to sacrifice scheduled work. That requires a deeper assessment, both of the opportunity and the the comparative value of the trade-off. A guiding principle here is not infatuation with an opportunity. Respecting your time is what's essential.

4 The opportunity could be added to the calendar. Sometimes the deadlines fluid. The question becomes, can it be added to the calendar? Is there room without trade-offs? Can other projects be delayed or canceled to open up space, and should they be? Again, a value calculation needs to be made before there is a decision. And, once again, respect your time. If things look good? The next question is about money.

5 The opportunity fits the budget. Not everything costs money. You can submit to editors and agents at no cost. Sometimes, you can pitch a project or response to a proposal without making any financial investment. However, many contests and courses require fees. So here's another principle: Respect your budget. Even if you have lots of money, seeking value helps to prioritize opportunities. For those who aren't wealthy, a budget can keep spending under control, making other opportunities available. Just as with time, there can be budgetary trade-offs where selected projects might be postponed or canceled. There is also the option of fundraising (usually a time cost). Borrowing might be a good choice if the value is exceptional.

6 What the opportunity offers is worth it. This gets into the concept of value assessments, and I can vary at different times in our lives and according to who we are and what we want. But there are some areas of value worth considering and creating measures for:

• Financial gain. This is straightforward. Are you getting paid for working or an option or sale? Is there a prize worth winning and within reach?
• Learning and feedback. Sometimes the value of writing a proposal or an artistic statement helps to shape understanding. Sometimes a critique, questions, or brainstorming an opportunity clarifies and improves the work itself. For me, answering some contests has been valuable because of validation of the concept or because it has provided me with useful comments. Exploring production (scripts for film and stage) with potential collaborators, even when a project hasn't been produced, has been worthwhile for me as well.
• Creation of assets. Especially in the film industry, intellectual property has become a top of mind concern. Because of the risks, completely new and original material is difficult to finance. So, the sale of a short story or production of a stage play or even something like a meme or a blog series or a fiction podcast can indicate an audience is out there for a story. This has raised the stakes for any concepts that could be translated into a different medium.
• Reputation, connections, and community. while writing appears to be a solitary activity, success is almost always driven by developing credibility with other people. Often, the true value of completing a project, mentoring, collaborating, going to a conference, or taking a course comes from the relationships that are created or deepened. Can you be trusted? Do you get the job done? Do people's like spending time with you? Do you have some exceptional skills? The answers to these questions come from other people, not from you. And you want those answers to be yes.

If you have (or can make) the time for an opportunity, if you have the money and the creative energy, if it fits in with your plans, and the payoffs are worth it, it's probably good to make room for the opportunity. 

Risk is a factor, course. With the best of intentions, you can fail in an opportunity or make a poor choice in who to collaborate with. Money can run out. You might be replaced on a project. A “sure thing” contest might be one by someone else. Since you never have complete information and the world keeps changing, there is no perfect way to select which opportunities to commit to. But being thoughtful is almost as good as being lucky in making choices.

There's more to say here. It's worthwhile to develop a way to assess potential value (and probably score them in a way that facilitates comparison). It's a good practice to take a look at completed projects and see how they worked out versus your expectations. Finding and developing opportunities also can make a difference. More chances for work or sales or collaboration, with ever better payoffs, relies on developing research techniques, writing queries, developing pitches, and improving interpersonal skills.

There’s one more thing I haven’t dealt with: Follow-through. If you make a good connection, you need to have the time and understanding to deepen the relationship. If you make a sale or when a contest, you need to figure out how to get full value from those wins. If feedback or a course alerts you to ways to improve the work or become a better writer, you need to set aside time for revision or to master a new skill. Is easy to dismiss, forget, or underestimate follow-through and waste the investments made in creating successes. Perhaps, that should be step number 7: Set aside time and resources to realize the full value of an opportunity you pursue.

A Writer’s Bucket List

I’m someone who’s driven more by enthusiasms than desires. I’ve never created a conventional bucket list, filled with places to see and things to do. At least not consciously. So, when exploring material for this post, I was surprised to discover that many of the things I might have put onto a list — from a writer’s perspective — I’ve already done.

For instance, I heard actors read my dialogue after I tagged along with a friend to a theater group. That was so thrilling, it should have been a target for me. Another unknown goal was getting into a writers’ room. The seeds for that were planted in me by years of watching The Dick Van Dyke Show. They grew to fruition when I was invited to join a writers’ room for a Web series. I even got to be head writer the second year of the series. Writing persuasively? I was inspired by the great speeches of the 60s (Martin Luther King, Kennedy, etc.), but this was a hope, but an unlikely goal when I was younger. Nevertheless, I somehow wandered from the lab to into a new career, learning the ins and outs of communicating clearly and persuasively to audiences from high school to the World Economic Forum.

So a lot of things were checked off my list already. Saying “yes” to collaborating with a variety of people and doing things that pushed me out of my comfort zone has worked for me.
Nonetheless, I’ll offer my own bucket list from my perspective as a writer, and I hope a few resonate with you.

    1.    Really finish a passion project — A lot of my writing has been done as an employee. (Paying the bills.) This sometimes bleeds into the creative, speculative work, moving me toward a market focus. But what about the stories I need to tell? I’m happy to say that my work is moving more and more in that direction. And I’m making progress. Step one: Know what the passion projects are. (Some I fall in love with. Some reveal themselves in the writing.) Step two: Give them the time they need. Don’t let them fall to the bottom of the list. Step three: Get a good draft completed. Step four: Keep pushing until they become irresistible.
    2.    Write something for posterity or intended as a gift or to honor to someone - This came up almost every time I had a conversation with my cousin, who wrote comedy. His focus was on posterity, but that always felt too grand to me. When I began to write with the idea that work could be a gift for someone alive or a way to honor someone who was lost. I’ve completed a few, and others are higher on my priority list. (While all my passion projects are lengthy, these tend to be small, doable efforts.)
    3.    Get a reading - To hear your words spoken by others can be painful or marvelous. When I was a young writer, it was almost always painful. Sometimes because I’d never read the words out loud and heard how awkward they were. Sometimes because the reader had more enthusiasm than skill. Mostly because I was stuck on how the words “should” sound. Anything other than a perfect match to what was in my head disturbed me. Luckily, I got over that to the point where, if someone matches my inner voice now, I’m disappointed. I actually work to provide words worth interpreting in fresh ways.
    4.    Finish a large/small work - A lot of writers I know get stuck in one form and never try another. Even if it’s not obvious, the true value of your work may lie outside your comfort zone. In my own experience, I’ve seen stories come alive when I’ve reinterpreted them — novels as screenplays. Short plays as short stories. And more. Roger Kahn wrote in his book,  Good Enough to Dream, about his dad at bat. A minor leaguer who only lacked the ability to hit home runs, his father switched around to bat left-handed for a game after his retirement. What was meant to be fun became a poignant moment when he sent the pitch soaring. The one tool he needed, hitting the long ball, wasn’t discovered until it was too late.
    5.    Connect with and say thank you to a writer you admire - Writing is a community with its own history and heroes. I grew up owing a debt to Melville and Shakespeare and Poe that I could only repay with my work. But I might have gotten the opportunity to thank Ray Bradbury or Paddy Chayefsky or Vonda McIntyre. I know now it would have mattered because I have had the chance to express my gratitude to other writers, and my moments with them have anchored my efforts in real and valuable ways.
    6.    Collaborate and/or mentor - My first attempt at collaboration was a disaster, but it taught me lifelong lessons I needed about tact and generosity. For me, even when projects don’t work out, I’ve found I gain a lot in terms of new perspectives and appreciation of skills. This is also true for mentoring, which has long been part of my practice. Enthusiasm rubs off. Questions teach. Diagnosing problems of another challenges me to look more closely at what I’m doing. Plus, writing means a lot more alone time than acting or playing music in a band. Collaborating and mentoring create community and friendships.
    7.    Write something that influences others or yourself - Persuasion is an essential element of speech writing, so I’ve been forced to think in terms of audience, reflecting on what people care about, what structures/phrasing/words are clear, emotional elements, providing entertaining experiences, and more. Especially when the stakes are high or the message isn’t welcome, this can push you to a new level of care and understanding in writing. I’m grateful to have been put into difficult real-world situations that have both improved my craft and forced me to empathize with people who are very different from myself. More recently, I’ve come to appreciate how the right projects can influence me. In particular, answering rude questions and looking for pivotal moments in my own life have opened up my writing and led me to a deeper understanding of myself.
    8.    Finish a poem worth memorizing - This is my own goal for 2022, and I might have included it under number 4 above, but the second part feels important. Taking something on that’s difficult and testing its value with a specific task goes further than testing the waters. For me, as a definite non-poet, this creates a goal that my intuition says is worth the time and effort.  
    9.    Write something just for fun - I’ve always believed that most writing should be fun. It is possible to do joyless writing. I’ve taken on demanding tasks, needed by clients, that called more for discipline and professional dedication than fun. That happens when writing is a career. However, I’m happy to say I’m someone who mostly takes delight in writing, and not a writers who only enjoys having written. In the past couple of years, perhaps because of the challenges of Covid, I’ve found myself working with writers who’ve lost their zeal for writing. In most cases, something took it away — a relationship, health problems, financial pressures, or life events. Writing just for the joy of it — not to pay a bill or get published or please someone else — is both valid and vital.
    10.    Go on a pilgrimage for inspiration - To me, Grand Central Station is a temple. I love spending time there, soaking in the beauty, the people, the echoes, and the drama. Walking through Robert Frost’s house in Vermont provided another experience of space, as the poems I grew up with (he was a favorite of my mother and grandfather) settled into my spirit in new ways. And, of course, the people and events that are part of the journey to a location of meaning can delight, terrify, or shape your consciousness as a writer, as well. Sometimes pilgrimages are created by circumstances out of your control, but mostly they need to be planned and invested in. Selecting a destination and putting it onto your calendar (almost) guarantees new perspectives.   

My original list had 25 items, and I discovered some I had (like attending Bread Loaf) spent a lot of years buried before they were realized. I also found that a lot of things that came to mind first like awards and contracts, were out of my control. I captured them anyway and made them prompts that help me to discover what I could add to a list. 

What’s on your bucket list?