![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
The key to success: give up.
I don't know why this works, and I almost wish it didn't. But it does, invariably: If I lose something, I find it as soon as I stop looking. If I'm waiting for Devon to get home, he'll walk through the door as soon as I shrug my shoulders and start up a game. If I'm stuck in a project, inspiration will come only after I decide to give up for the day and tackle it again tomorrow.
Would that I could do these things immediately, with hope and intention, rather than having them sprung on me just after I've stopped trying. But at least this means things get found, the boyfriend returns home, and projects—
Like Ghost and Aaron fic—
Go from good intention to forward progress in a flash of inspiration come just a minute late.
Scratch the above: I can guess why it works. When I'm concentrating my frustrated energies on something, I run out of options and ideas; when I divert my energies, the problem stews in my hindbrain, uncovering new solutions—which then pop forefront and get me back on task. (Except the boyfriend, of course: his timing is just a sick joke played by the universe.) Writing is part effort and part alchemy, or at least it is for me: the energy spent sitting down and forcing oneself to write is a big part of the work, but the fire of inspiration is just as important—and often makes the first part much easier. I've been stewing over this storybit on and off all day—editing the pictures of the scene, determining if it was the right piece to include, tossing around ideas, opening scenes, pacing. But the last few hours it's been like beating my head against a wall: painful, with little forward progress. I knew what it had to be but couldn't manage the leap from premise to product. So I started up Paranormal Activity (good alone-at-night movie, y/y?), checked my email one last time, sat down to watch—and had that flash of inspiration, and soon after had 400 words.
But as said: better late than—and in the large view of course it's not late, because I can't finish the picture portion just yet anyway, and I've no schedule to stick to or anything. And it sure is nice to have an inroad.
I don't know why this works, and I almost wish it didn't. But it does, invariably: If I lose something, I find it as soon as I stop looking. If I'm waiting for Devon to get home, he'll walk through the door as soon as I shrug my shoulders and start up a game. If I'm stuck in a project, inspiration will come only after I decide to give up for the day and tackle it again tomorrow.
Would that I could do these things immediately, with hope and intention, rather than having them sprung on me just after I've stopped trying. But at least this means things get found, the boyfriend returns home, and projects—
Like Ghost and Aaron fic—
Go from good intention to forward progress in a flash of inspiration come just a minute late.
Scratch the above: I can guess why it works. When I'm concentrating my frustrated energies on something, I run out of options and ideas; when I divert my energies, the problem stews in my hindbrain, uncovering new solutions—which then pop forefront and get me back on task. (Except the boyfriend, of course: his timing is just a sick joke played by the universe.) Writing is part effort and part alchemy, or at least it is for me: the energy spent sitting down and forcing oneself to write is a big part of the work, but the fire of inspiration is just as important—and often makes the first part much easier. I've been stewing over this storybit on and off all day—editing the pictures of the scene, determining if it was the right piece to include, tossing around ideas, opening scenes, pacing. But the last few hours it's been like beating my head against a wall: painful, with little forward progress. I knew what it had to be but couldn't manage the leap from premise to product. So I started up Paranormal Activity (good alone-at-night movie, y/y?), checked my email one last time, sat down to watch—and had that flash of inspiration, and soon after had 400 words.
But as said: better late than—and in the large view of course it's not late, because I can't finish the picture portion just yet anyway, and I've no schedule to stick to or anything. And it sure is nice to have an inroad.
