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Posts Tagged ‘Creative Inspiration’

Well, as often happens, I’m writing a post I didn’t plan on today. All right, if we’re splitting hairs, I don’t really plan any of them. However, I do dream of each one and fantasize about what I’m going to write before I write it, so that’s something, isn’t it?

I thought today I’d be penning some kind of sassy short⎯punchy and poignant, complete with a catchy, soul-shaking moral. Ideas came to me all week. Tricky ideas fooling me into thinking I’d remember them without jotting them down. Slippery ideas that slurped their tendrils back in as quickly as they’d appeared, stirring my creative juices.

Nope. No stories today.

Today, I am being inspired by crappy content. Yup. The crappier the better.

If you’re an aspiring writer, you may already know what I’m hinting at. You may know, without me having to explain, because you’ve been here. You are here. You live here.

Have you ever watched a movie or read a book and thought, how on God’s green earth is this out there for all to see? Who thought this was a good idea? and then, been shocked when you came up with the answer…two people. At least two people on the ground floor had to think this was a good idea⎯the creator and the buyer.

Good grief, Charlie Brown.

I know you’ve had these very thoughts. And not only have you marveled (and lamented) at the acceptance of these at best questionable works, but you have sworn that even your most embarrassing first drafts are better than them.

And I’m sure they are.

You can see where I’m going here. The very thing that deters our belief in the system can also be an open door. It may not be well-marked or easy to find, but there is clearly a way in.

No, the published crap might not seem fair, but we can certainly use it to fortify our faith.

9781601062598

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It’s bucketing. If you can’t hear it, you should get your ears checked. I love the rain and sufficiently so, reside in a city where it rains…just a smidge. (sarcasm button gets a nudge here)

I find it inspiring in a “Hey – stay home, it’s dry” kind of way. The drizzling’s akin to the crack of a fire or the snap of fatty bacon and it spits, “Yeah – don’t go out, it’s wet.”

It tells me to ditch the dust and draw the drapes. The smatterings of spatterings spur me to instead open a book or clack those creative keys. It suggests I simmer a pot of steamy broth or a hearty stew. It begs, “create.”

But tonight, I head downtown into the wet and wild wonder.

Tomorrow I’ll reign.

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