There is only one reason to write. It’s not money or fame. I won’t say what it is: it’s your reason, singular and strong. Your job is to invigorate your writing practice with that underlying reason. And with support and reward. What nourishes the urge to write?
I have a student whose weekly writing practice–which we touch on at the beginning and at the end of each class–is to follow the urge to write. This is a tremendous commitment. Think of all the moments when an idea or an image bolts through the mind but the arms are full of groceries or plunged into the dishwater or about to fall asleep. The commitment to put down the bags, dry the hands, fumble for a notebook or dictate something into your phone–that is no small habit. But it’s central to the commitment to the thread of your own creative voice. So many ideas have come and, certain they were too strong to forget, I let them go unrecorded–and away they went.
So why “I for Invigorate” with all this talk of reasons and habits?Because that love of writing, that commitment, must be sustained. More than sustained: it must be invigorated.
Think of a brisk walk, or energetically uplifting music, the kind that wells in you and bursts out in private kitchen dances, secret shower arias. Think of a conversation that takes a turn and surprises you. A yes to something that makes a difference. A movie you walk out of with the world of it still before your eyes, changing the lobbies and parking lots of the world you walk into. A kiss you feel through your whole body. A view that silences and elates, stretching to the blue mountain horizon and beyond, the world shrunk to loveable, expanding forever into the edges of the sky. Think of a time you couldn’t stop laughing. Stepping outside the box of what you thought you had to be. The stars in a place where they are not obscured by city lights. Catching the jubilant, fierce energy of a wave. Jumping into the ice waters of a fjord. Sinking into a hot bath.
How can you so invigorate your writing, this creative practice, invention, imagination, recreation, story? Don’t nod, your mouth momentarily frowning in consideration, and then move onto the next thing. Make a list. Make a plan. Take an action that thrills you. It can be as quiet as reading a wonderful book. As risky as reading your own work aloud. As unsettling as trying something on the page that you think of as impossible. Or forbidden. It might involve a deadline, readers, retreat, a hot beverage, a short trip.
Invigorate your writing. Tickle it, snuggle it, share it, shelter it, seize it, honor it, print it out, finish it, start over, go deeper, change voice, surprise yourself, sing. On an ordinary day, you are falling into step with the great authors you adore, the story makers you live by, the mass of humanity hungry to know.