Using journals and diaries as inspiration...

You are tapped out - your mind has left the ring, nothing new or fresh remains. It is more than writer's block - it is a vast partition separating coherent thoughts and imagination. The dead zone of creativity has arrived.
Ok, maybe that is a bit dramatic. (My drama queen of an eight year old has me in that frame of mind. A sore throat is ending her life - she clearly doesn't have my double G alleled red-headed gene!) But seriously - it is bound to happen to all of us - the creative pit of nothingness.
So - what is the cure? I have found that stepping away from conjuring characters and plot lines from the air and traveling back in time tends to do the trick. How, you ask? I open old journals - snippets of the past that are often forgotten. An antidote of a child, a skirmish between spouses, an odd dream penned to page - whatever it may be, it sparks the fire again. Sometimes it isn't that simple. Let's face it, interlacing the personal details of our lives into the fictitious characters we create can reveal more than we care - naked prose. But - how about non-fiction?
Yes, it is still a genre of writing and, better yet, narrative non-fiction is fed from both the imagination and true life. Presently, I have been pouring heart and soul into this often forgotten genre of writing. There have been opportunities to submit samples of creative non-fiction to magazines - ones that demand truths and savor literary grounding.
With a lifetime of experiences, where does one start? Again, the journals. If you aren't the type to adhere to the structure of keeping them, try closing your eyes and bringing yourself back to a place in time. Are they closed yet? (Bad joke - how do you read with shut eyes?!) You are a child again, maybe twelve or thirteen, detaching yourself from childish things and discovering a new world of prospects. How did you feel? Were you the kid who was counting down the minutes until you could drive a car or were you the one who hid in the closet with dolls, pretending you were still young? Imagine the time you were most excited or afraid. Go there in your mind and write out all that you remember. Don't sweat the small things, the dialogue can be created true to the times later.
Today, I submitted a piece for a literary travel magazine. The topic was a place revisited, holding sentiment of the heart. I wrote about my return to Sequoia National Park - twenty-eight years, two months, and twenty-six days between the two trips. How different our experiences are as we mature - from height perception to the feelings invoked.
Like Barbara Streisand says in her concerts, "Talk amongst yourselves - I'll give you a topic." But instead of butter (yes, she gave the topic of butter :O), how about memories?  The challenge is on!

Penning past the pain...

I don't know about you, but life can really smack me down. Hard. Whether it is personal…health issues, relationship dramas, an unwanted diagnosis in a child… or someone close to us who is dealing with a hailstorm of trials - blind-siding pain and the butt hits the floor. While we are digging the gravel from our knee caps, frantically finding the right-sized bandaids to cover the bleeding, and trying desperately to get back up again…How do we write through that? (I suppose that might even be helpful if you are writing about something similar, but a comedic dialogue? A poignant scene between a mother and young daughter? Hmm, not so much!)

That has been me, for the past few weeks. Personal and someone(s) close - double whammies. I haven't stopped writing, but I do find the pain of life to be very distracting, to say the least. For example, I have started to blog no less than 5 times in the past few days and…yep, not happening. So, when I opened up the post page today, I just decided to write about this - penning past the pain. Maybe it should be penning past life, but me and my darn love of alliteration, right? ;)

Sitting on the lanai today, staring at the sand around the lake - sand I didn't even know was there until the water dried over it - I found myself checking my weather app, hoping for rain. With so many wildfires in FL, we truly need it right now! Upon closer inspection, however, I also discovered large rock formations under the water, right beside the sand. Shaped smooth from the lake's moisture, they formed what almost appears to be a stairway leading into the depths. I would have never known this hidden beauty if there wasn't a drought. Hmm. It doesn't take a large leap to link that metaphor of writing in pain or struggling distractions. When life knocks us flat on the ground, extinguishing our energy…if we open our eyes and look around, what might we discover from that perspective that we wouldn't see standing up-right? Every uncomfortable moment, unwanted drama, unwelcome chaos - all of it - is an opportunity to expand our portfolio of life experiences. To actually experience something is better than imagining it (albeit, we might prefer to just conjure, instead). There is truth…a raw reality that makes us acutely aware of what it is to feel something - how it affects all the senses in such a tangible way!

Although I may be still digging gravel from my knee caps today, I am taking new notice of it's texture, the colors it leaves, how it smells, the small ridges it leaves on the skin…I will be standing again, soon enough.

Rainy Days...

I live in the Sunshine State - Florida. True to it's name, when the snow is falling, blanketing the North/West, we have sunshine and warmth. Usually, the the rain we experience arrives on summer afternoons - just enough to lower humidity and temperature to that "not too hot" level of enjoying the back lanai and lake views. (Lanai - I laugh at the fact that I am officially used to the term. It is, what I refer to, as the pretentious name for a screened-in porch!) Needless to say - waking to a May morning of dark clouds, followed by a rapid down pouring, is not usual! (I am penning this a couple hours later, with the sun shining again - so much for the "rainy days" title of this post - but, at least, it did start as one.)

As long as I didn't have to drive or run in and out of the storms, I have always enjoyed them. It is like a heavenly stamp of peace, rest, and reprieve for me. Yes, even if the lightning flashes wild and the thunder sends shivers down the walls of our home, I enjoy it. Although it might not be some people's ideal of peace, it is mine. It is the "stay inside and watch the wonder," the inspiration of the pen…there is something about the chaos of wind whipping leaves and branches around, waves glistening on the lake, birds scurrying around to find retreat - all of it - that I see stories. Actually, for writing, my most ideal "weather" is a storm. Maybe it is because it keeps me at home (if I can help it). With eyes glued to the horizon, the imagination runs as wild as the clouds outside.

My mom (I must give her credit for this phrase and did request permission to use it) texted me something this morning. "I can almost hear the gulps and sighs of the earth giving thanks to God." What a poetic line, Mom! It is true, there has been a need for rain here. Rocks, those we didn't know existed, have been exposed in our lake - it has been too shallow. Perhaps the lack of rain and storms have caused a similar draught to my imagination…as I have trudged through the dry sand of creativity these past couple of weeks?

I probably should have titled this blog, "Weather of Creativity," or something of the likes. It is the point of today's ramblings. It also raises an interesting question: Does weather affect your writing? Do you thrive in the sunshine or rain? Cold or heat? Waves or calm seas? I suppose that what you are writing would be affected, as well. It is easier to write catastrophe in chaotic weather and pen happiness in the sunshine. However, if you had to pick a climate that most inspires you, what would it be? For me, I realize this day, it is a storm.