I've Been Thinking...
A quiet moment of reflection between projects.
I’m late again with this newsletter, but I have a valid reason.
I’ve been thinking. (That’s my reason.)
In the shower. On long car rides. At my “work desk” (I work remotely). After each turn of the page in the book I’m reading. In the gap between two bites of food.
I’m about to launch into a new novel project. It’s a quasi-sequel to my robot manuscript (both projects exist in the same universe), and I intend to work on it while simulatenously finalizing the rest of my scripts for a 6-issue comic series (for which I still need to find an artist!).
It’s always before propelling myself into another one of these larger endeavors that I spend a lot of time thinking. I don’t force it. I let the idea permeate in waves, lapping against the shore of my brain throughout the days, weeks, or months that I spend contemplating. The more I can’t keep the idea out of my head, the more I feel the need to create it — to offer it up to the world and get rid of it.
It’s in these “quiet” moments between projects where I feel in sync with everything around me. I see parallels everywhere — in the books I read, movies I watch, etc. I won’t go all self-help guru on you, dear reader, and harp on the notion of “intention” or some sort of universal consciousness, but it certainly feels like the world offers up multiple coincidences that feed back into the idea I can’t let go.
You probably feel this too, I imagine. Right? One day you’re sitting at home, thinking about an experience you just had, and suddenly you’re seized with this want — nay, NEED — to create art. So you incubate it. You ponder the idea for a while and let it stew. Like the humidor at your local cigar shop, you wait for the conditions to be just right before you put pen to paper, brush to canvas, or digipen to computer screen.
Can I tell you something?
I need to be happy to write. In a world that often feels like a complete sh*tshow, creating is an expression of bliss, of inner joy I root out from within myself and express onto the page. Even the sad, brutal, grimy parts of my stories.
When I create, I turn on binaural beats, close my eyes for a second, and then just go. There’s no alcohol. There’s no anger or hatred or anxiety. I will draw forth these tools as I need them, but the act of creating is a sacred one. It’s tranquil; a quiet moment between my conscious brain and my deeper self.
I know plenty of people who only create when they feel something — positive or negative. They need an emotion to run with, and they’ll use music to fabricate the mood when need be, if the world doesn’t provide one. I know others who need to feel relaxed in order to create. In searching online, I’ve found plenty of articles that argue for either a wellspring of happiness or the necessity of negativity in order to spark creativity.
This tells me that there’s no singular road to walk. There’s neither a right way nor a wrong way to create. We’re all just walking our paths and sharing with one another the ideas that keep coming back to us.
When I want to force myself to write, there’s a movie I use to center myself. It’s a Mel Brooks film from 1967 called The Producers. In it, a washed-up Broadway producer (Max Bialystock) convinces an accountant (Leo Bloom) to go into show business with him when Bloom discovers that Bialystock could make more money with a Broadway flop than with a hit.
The film then proceeds to show this duo scamming and conniving their way into producing a reprehensible Broadway musical, but at The Producers’ core, there’s a story about inspiration and happiness.
Bloom (Gene Wilder) is an anxious, sad, and near-lifeless entity at the film’s beginning. Though Bialystock is indisputably a con man, in his wining and dining of Bloom, he sparks a zest and love for life that can’t be taken away. Bloom abandons his work for the day to explore New York with Bialystock, and in doing so, finds true happiness.
When Bloom realizes that he’s happy, the energy that Wilder brings to the performance is pure and raw. It’s so expressive and real, and I can’t help but share in that joy. It energizes me, mustering up the happiness I need to create.
It’s weird to think that Mel Brooks made The Producers over 50 years ago, and that today, it still echoes.
However you come by the energy, will, and ability to bring forth the ideas that keep you up at night, they were probably inspired by interactions with other humans, by engaging with music or media gifted to the world by another person. It’s amazing to think that, on some level, the act of creation is part of a chain reaction throughout all of human history, passed from one person to another, from one generation to the next.
And we’re the next links on the chain. Have a creative week.
Inspiring, as always. Thanks, Scott.