Owning Your Creative Process

I hate writing. I love having written.

Dorothy Parker

I am so sorry, Dorothy. What a bummer to have hated the process of creating what delighted us all so much. Personally, I believe that if the journey is a good fit for us, we can love getting there as much as we dig being there.

Maybe Dorothy just didn’t find the design that worked for her. So that doesn’t happen to you, let’s take a look at the paths that are open to us. 

And just so you know, I’m not going to offer you the typical “Are you a planner, a pantser, or a plantser?” I’m beyond happy to say that the Scribbling Women have created a whole new lexicon for looking at the ways to approach writing. Basically they fall on a fluid continuum:

INTENTIONAL ————————————— INTUITIVE  

This is much more nuanced. 

“Planner” sounds too rigid.

“Pantser” sounds like you don’t know what you’re doing.

“Plantser” gives the impression that you can’t make up your mind.  

Those terms imply that Planner is the sensible approach and the other two are for flakes. 

The words “Intentional” and “Intuitive” are more flexible, more respectful of who we are. The words we use to describe ourselves matter. 

We can think of this as a full color spectrum. To offer a general foundation to work from, let me introduce you to two very different writers.

Meet Maxine

Maxine has a character in her head who gets upset when she’s wrong, tries to be perfect and torments herself when she can’t get it right. Maxine begins by Googling names that fit this kind of protagonist and lands on Clairene. Then Maxine begins talking to Clairene on paper, using longhand on a legal pad, interviewing her about her past, her experiences, the things that have shaped her to be this gotta-be-right person. Maxine knows the plot will begin to reveal itself as they talk. Next Maxine asks Clairene what she does for a living, and Clairene reveals that she is an art student, because she wants to create perfect art, and she pays for that while working as a welder. Maxine then researches places that have good art schools and decides her setting will be Chicago’s Institute of Art. She books a trip. While in the Windy City, Maxine does copious research, writing down one piece of information on each notecard for easier access later. On the fight home, she journals some more with Clairene and finds out that she is blackmailed into stealing art to save the life of her fiancé, which of course goes against Clairene’s need to do everything right.  All of that goes into the outline Maxine is layering. Maxine is pretty excited about this inner conflict. She then pauses to watch movies about art theft and makes notes to weave into the outlined plot. She also shadows a welder for several days and “borrows” artwork from several friends’ homes to see if she can get away with it, just to know what it feels like. Fully equipped, Maxine completes her 40-page outline and determines how many pages she can write a day, how many writing days she has, and sets a deadline on her calendar. She is now ready to roll.  

Maxine is the epitome of an Intentional Writer. 

Probably no one is THIS step-by-step about their process, but if you see anything of yourself in Maxine, you can comfortably put yourself closer to the intentional end of the spectrum. Just for now. 

Meet Ginger

Ginger is in the soup aisle at Kroger one day and notices a woman who is talking herself through the merits of chicken noodle over cream of mushroom. Out loud.  Ginger is fascinated and wonders what would make a person that indecisive. Just somehow knowing this now-character is named Stepheni, spelled with an “eni” rather than “anie” which she had at some point changed from “aney”… where was she going with that? Oh, yeah, Ginger has to write her story. So Ginger takes her laptop to the Perfect Bean Coffee Shop and after she’s done deciding whether the vegan sweet potato muffin or the Gluten-free blueberry scone will best enhance the writing experience—and buys both—she then deliberates on the music to listen to with her earbuds which will support this particular project. After a good deal of mulling that turns out to be country because it’s predictable and jazz is too random and she gets too into classic rock, specifically Led Zepplin, and forgets what she’s doing… and sort of has at this point. But finally Ginger just begins to write Stepheni’s story, opening with the soup aisle. Before Ginger knows it, Stepheni  pulls out a can of ham and lentil from a pyramid of cans, the whole thing falls on her, and the next thing she knows she’s waking up in the hospital and isn’t sure who she is, though she does know that the spider tattoo on her inner arm wasn’t there before. Ginger’s digging this. She has no idea where it’s going, but that’s the fun of it. She doesn’t write every day, because sometimes she has to stop and research the realities of amnesia or get online and look for a cool place to plant Ginger, at which point she gets distracted by some great deals on trips to the Virgin Islands, but eventually she gets the thing written. And dang, it’s good. 

Ginger is the poster child for an Intuitive Writer.

Maybe nobody is quite this comfortable with the never-knowing-what’s-next, but if you see yourself in Ginger at all, maybe more her than Maxine, go ahead and put yourself closer to the Intuitive end of the continuum. For now. 

We are all both!

Most likely you’re some of both, in a way no one else is. The point is to find the process that allows you to approach a project with confidence. You may already know what that is. Some may still be trying to find it or tweak it. In either case, I think it’s worth looking at 6 questions to ask yourself that may lead you to your own unique way to do this writing thing.

#1 What comes to you first and won’t leave you alone?

• Is it a theme?
• A character?
• A setting?
• A circumstance?
• A single detail?
• A vague feeling?
• A clear vision?

It might be different every time. That’s because we are open to possibility, no matter where we fall on the continuum.

#2 How do you move with that?

• Do you run with it?
• Follow it?
• Do you drive the bus, or are you a passenger?
• Do you tell the story, or does the story tell you?

ALL of that has merit. Just think about your instincts. When it comes to creativity, those instincts are to be trusted. 

#3 What excites you more:

• Knowing where you’re going and figuring out how to get there?
• Or not knowing where you’re going and being surprised when you arrive?
• Or having a basic idea of your destination and salivating at the bunny trails you’ll follow along the way?

#4. In terms of the information you need to make the story real or give the non-fiction piece the voice of authority, are you more likely to:

• Do all the research first and let that knowledge shape the story?
•  Or stop when the need for info comes up and research it then?
• Or write the whole draft, making notes of the gaps and taking care of the info-gathering before the next draft?
  

#5. When you’re starting to write how do you like to feel?

• Completely calm and confident?
• Anxious, nervous, even scared, so that the adrenalin moves you forward?
• So pumped with inspiration you can hardly sit still? 

That won’t last the whole time, but if you don’t feel that way when you begin, revisit your process. 

#6. At what point in the creation of a piece of writing do you typically get bogged down? (because everybody does)

• Before you start, because you’re afraid you’ll create a hot mess?
• Or after Chapter Two when you can’t keep yourself from continually going back and editing and polishing?
• Or several chapters in when you realize you don’t know where the Sam Hill the story is going?
• Or when you think you’re at the climax, and realize you’ve lost the thread you started with?
• Or when you finish the first draft and you know it needs editing and you can’t make yourself do it because you hate that part?

Part II of this question is this:

What do you do when you find yourself in the bog? That is a huge part of your unique process for keeping on keeping on. Do you:

• Read something you’ve written before that was straight-up good and convince yourself you’ve done it before and you can do it again?
• Print out those first two chapters, lock them in a drawer, and give a trusted friend the key so you can’t go back and look at them? (That is of course symbolic because you can always use your computer file. We have to trick ourselves!)
• Set the thing aside for a while and go hang out with your characters?
• Make a diagram of where the story has gone thus far so you can see it in front of you and know where you got off track?
• Let someone whose expertise and gentleness you trust read your draft and point out five places you might want to work on, and then approach those five places the way you moved into the story in the first place? So it doesn’t feel like editing. 

Putting it all together:

Study your answers. See if you can use them to write a description of YOUR individual process. You DON’T have to name it Intentional or Intuitive, unless you want to. Simply envision it and get it down, using the questions as your guide.

Creatively elaborating on our process in detail about what works for us and what doesn’t is essential at this point. No matter what we’ve been told by well-meaning teachers and mentors, regardless of what our writing group has told us is the way to go, only we can know what moves us forward.

A Simile:

Since we’re writers—who think in images—why not come up with a simile for the way you work?

Something like this:

• My creative process is like untangling a really messed up fine necklace chain
• My creative process is like following a bunny in the snow.
• My creative process is like a Socratic dialogue
• My creative process is like shooting spitball ideas at the wall and seeing what sticks.

Brainstorm delightedly until the most delicious one reaches out and says, “Me! Me! I’m it!”

Words of caution:

Once you have this exquisite picture—no matter how ugly it might seem to someone else—keep these things in mind:

• Give it a good solid chance to work before you chuck it, like, after ten minutes. 
• Be willing to tweak, rather than give up on the process and start over
• Most of all OWN IT! 

–Don’t listen if someone tells you it’s wrong
–Or it’s not the way ‘real’ writers do it
–Or it’s just too weird 

Being a whole lot of weird is what we do!!! We’re the Scribbling Women!

Bonus Exercise: 

If this still eludes you and you want a more basic way to sort of figure yourself out, download this bonus exercise (pdf) for something light and fun to get yourself started. As an extra bonus, you can check out this week’s companion podcast episode, “Owning Your Creative Process.” And until next time, Scribblies…

Scribble on!