That writing feeling...non writers don't get it do they?
Can you describe the writing feeling? I'll go first...
You know the feeling of found money? Let me walk you through the scene…
The season is changing, and you haven’t needed that puffy vest since last fall, but you do today. You quickly reach to the back of the closet and feel around for it. Got it, yank it out, pull it on, grab your keys and go. You get to the post office, waiting in line you reach in to grab your phone (so you can scroll-while-you-wait) and when you pull the phone out a $20 bill (insert your currency here - pound, krona, xxxxxx) comes with it. Found money!!!! It’s enough money for more than one Venti latte, but not enough to pay the mortgage, if you get my meaning.
I have another one for you.
You know the feeling of having a really sore tooth on a Sunday when you can’t get to the dentist? Walk with me again…
It’s sore, and it’s on the biting service back there where you need it for chewing a sandwich but you can use the other side of your mouth, for now. If you don’t touch it, don’t let sweet stuff get back there, avoid brushing, and hold your mouth just so…all pursed up like you sucked a lemon but not hanging open like you’re on the wrong subway platform…yeh that way….
These two scenes and the sensation of being in both of them are like writing in flow, for me, anyway. How do these land for you?
What does writing feel like for you when it’s pouring?
When the writing is pouring out of me, it’s like, “I could do this all day, and I wouldn’t even need to stop to think about kids, hydration, or whether it’s still light out” combined with, “don’t do anything differently than right now…don’t move a muscle, stop for coffee, let the dog outside or speak to needy, annoying, how-dare-they-interrupt family members…this could all end in pain and disappointment.”
Art is a feeling. Creation is an embodied experience.
We don’t owe anyone the explanation for why we can’t NOT do it…but try for yourself (for me in the comments) or for your writing group/partner/pal or curious loved one, to liken it to something else.
Drop me a note…
When writing is flowing for me at 4 am, I feel exhilarated,fresh like walking in the rain as words rain down on me.
I start creating - in my case usually painting - but now it’s writing. It’s 11 am, the sun is bright and the clouds pass by, casting shadows over my work without a care. The dog is barking, her sharp sound takes me out of my flow, I ignore it…I think someone else can feed her… until I remember that there’s no one home. Before I know it, there aren’t any shadows because it’s dark out, I haven’t turned on the light.