A Whole Life Approach to Writing
By: Valori Maresco
Tags: Creativity, Writing Tips, Writing Life, Essay, Writing

A Whole Life Approach to Writing

How to contain, capture and corral creative inspiration

That loving feeling

One of my personal mantras as it relates to writing is I write because I love it. It is on my profile, it shows up in a poem here and an essay there, and it is totally un-unique. Yep, you read that right — un-unique. Even though a deep passion for writing pulses through my veins, I know I am not the special bearer of creative desires. A love for communicating through the written word is the universal soul beat of wordsmiths across the globe. It is a creative energy all true writers feel.

Sometimes.

Oh no, you may be thinking about now, not another article on how to keep pressing on when feelings of inspiration are nowhere to be found! Fear not, I will not be giving any tips on how to discipline yourself through the dry spells and persevere through the grueling hours of tedium. Although, if you need that kind of thing, there are many good resources out there.

The bookends of the whole life approach

I would like to take a different approach — a whole life approach to keeping that love of writing alive. First, a little personal background may be in order, to frame what I will be addressing and set the stage for what I will not be.

I remember the early days of my own writing passion when, as far back as first grade, I discovered that creative writing assignments were not work, but fun. It is the memory of times alone in my room, however, when an overwhelming desire to write a story would fall upon me, that I remember most. I would sit down, with my wide-ruled notebook paper and #2 pencil, and start to sketch out the characters and conversations that were a part of my make-believe world. It was exhilarating! Until it wasn’t. I would get about 2 or 3 chapters in, the enthusiasm would wane, and the story would end up somewhere in my room, probably in the triangular space behind my catty-corner dresser that served as my fort. I kept waiting for that feeling to come back so I could finish my creation, but alas.

I also recall the first time I discovered that I could produce a finished product by sheer discipline with no feeling of inspiration whatsoever. It was my senior year of high school, when I had to write a literary analysis paper for my English class. It was one of those papers where you have to back up your thesis with sub-points supported by quotations from the book, and I had likely not even read the whole book. Somehow, I miraculously produced a worthy paper. But what was eye-opening to me at the time was that I could write something I was proud of without feeling like writing or even caring about the topic I was writing about. In the end, however, the exercise did produce several feelings: a sense of accomplishment, a boost in confidence and the satisfaction of self-discipline.

These little snapshots represent what I like to think of as two very important bookends of a writer’s life: we need times of both deep inspirational creativity and structured discipline if we are going to bring our ideas to fruition. We have only to look at nature for an example of how beauty, spontaneity, order, and structure are intermingled throughout the created world.

Those ordinary moments

But what about all of the other moments of everyday life? The times when seedling thoughts lie dormant, when our little ant army lives march along as we do our duties, or when inner and outer storms rage leaving no time for structured planning, let alone space for contemplation and inspiration? The truth is that, for most of us, even those who write for a living, these non-writing times represent the majority of our existence. Eating and sleeping alone can take up close to half of every 24-hour period. If we want to stay healthy and maintain relationships with other human beings, that adds in a few more hours a day, and I could go on and on. Trust me, I am a scheduler, and I have parsed my life carefully over the years in an effort to understand where all the time goes.

As a writing lover, I need to remember that writing is a whole life experience and includes much more than the moments I sit down to write, whether from major inspiration or necessary discipline. Between these times are the ordinary moments, the everyday occurrences that are easily lost, but worthy of guarding and gleaning. I find that most of my inspiration comes either directly or indirectly through normal life experiences—when I am brushing my teeth, shuttling kids around, sweeping the floor or having a conversation with family and friends. It is in these very times that the little fireflies of creativity float across the landscape of my mind. It is also at these very times that those same fireflies will flutter and flicker right back out into the void of night if I don’t (humanely, of course) contain, capture and corral them. If I don’t want them to disappear, I need to safeguard them until I can release their illuminating sparks into my writing.

Containing, capturing and corralling creativity. These alliterative categories are not perfectly clear-cut, but instead of trying to squeeze creativity into a mold, I am satisfied that the overlap is further proof of the whole life nature of the writing process. Following is how I seek to hold on to the brief flashes of my fireflies.

Contain the emotions

Ah, those sometimes pleasant, sometimes painful, often unwieldy emotions. How to contain them when their definition is unclear, their nature so fleeting and life moves on leaving us with only an undefined memory? We know what words to use to tell — confusion, anger, love — but how do we hold on to the moment — contain it — so that we show the emotion in our writing?

I recently found myself in a situation where I felt extremely agitated. At the time, I probably felt any number of emotions — sadness, anger, confusion and eventually peace. See, I just told you how I felt, but, while I’m sure you can relate, it probably didn’t stir up any emotion in you.

As I was processing my emotions and trying to calm myself, I felt the urge to write, but I wasn’t at a place of clarity to do so and it wasn’t really the right time. Instead, I decided to contain the emotions within the framework of my experience. I wrote stream of consciousness notes — with no care for spelling, structure, flow — into my phone, intermingling sights, sounds, feelings and thoughts into one long rambling string. Afterwards, every time I read those notes, I recalled the incident vividly and eventually shaped the experience into a poem.

Capture the senses

We are constantly using our senses. They are the physical intake valves through which we relate to the world around us. They not only enable us to experience pleasure and pain, but they can stir up emotions and trigger deep thinking. Hence, the difficulty in placing them in a completely separate category. For my current purposes, I am making a distinction that I find helpful. When I think of capturing the senses, I am less concerned with trying to identify what I am feeling and more concerned with making sure that the fleeting revelations my senses bring to mind do not escape.

Here is an example. One of the things I love to do is go for country drives. They expand my view, help me take deep breaths, pull me out of my stress pits. But why? It is because, as I am driving along, I see broad open spaces, beautiful contrasting colors, surprising vistas around the bend. I need to capture those.

Or what about the other senses? I find that smells and sounds often bring with them wafts and echoes of nostalgia. The smell of my grandparents’ home or the distant sound of a train whistle remind me of what it felt like to be a child — not only remind me, but carry me back in time. The taste of macadamia nut crusted mahi mahi takes me to a romantic open-air dinner on the edge of the Pacific Ocean. The touch of my grandson’s little lips on my cheek brings with it both today’s new joys and yesterday’s memories of young motherhood.

Whenever I am in a situation where my senses bring refreshment to my soul, clarity to my thinking or reminders of past situations, I try to capture them by recording them in short phrases that will jog my sensory memories when I decide to use them in a story or poem or perhaps even a non-fiction piece.

Corral the concepts

Whether out of the clear blue sky or triggered by one of the above two items, I have days where a concept races through my mind, and I think, “I need to write about that!” It could be something based on a very simple observation of a daily frustration like, “Why is there always a mismatch between plastic storage containers and lids?” Or it could be a quick glance in the mirror that triggers thoughts on the mysteries of aging, “how can I still feel so young on the inside while the outside insists on growing old?”

Recently, not on a country drive, but on a suburban drive along a winding back road, I was provided a real-life illustration of a concept I think of often — perspective. After having driven this 3-mile stretch several times from one direction — on my way home from somewhere — I now approached it from the opposite direction — on my way to that somewhere — and was struck by the unfamiliarity of it all. I was aware of new scenery I had never noticed, and instead of being confident about the speed I should take as I rounded a curve, I was cautious and apprehensive, not knowing what would be around the bend and unsure of how much further I needed to drive to get to the end. It felt like a completely different road. Perspective.

Knowing there was a life lesson in there, I corralled the concept by recording it with a sentence or two and stored it away in my computer Incubator folder. That folder contains documents entitled Miscellaneous Ideas (so original!) and Quirky and Fleeting Thoughts (that’s better!) as well as individual documents for ideas I have spent time expounding on a bit more extensively.

Concluding encouragement

My goal in sharing these things is not to provide methods, but to encourage all writers, including myself, to keep our love of writing alive even in times when we are not experiencing light bulb illuminations or when we are unable to carve out intentional time for writing. By recognizing that our lives are full of inspirational moments just waiting to be contained, captured and corralled, we have the opportunity to dot the landscape of our everyday moments with fireflies, keeping our own creative lights burning, while waiting for the perfect time to release our new and glowing creations into the world.

So what fireflies have flown across your creative landscape today? I know you’ve seen some. Now just take a few moments to contain, capture or corral them. Meanwhile, I need to go take care of a few of my own.