There's always some sense of being repressed, deep in your forever-questioning brain when you are a creative.
I say 'a creative' like we're a species unto ourselves.
I believe that all humans are naturally, innately creative - you just have to spend a couple of minutes watching small children play as they make sense of the world as proof of this.
I wrote a blog on this 'You're More Creative than You Think' last year and I also blogged on 20 Ways to Keep The Creative Juices Flowing.
When I say 'a creative' I mean people who identify themselves as creative and who perhaps make a living doing something conspicuously creative: visual arts, music, sculpture, design, photography, writing etc. These are the things people usually associate with 'creativity' and will say "I'm not creative" because these forms of self-expression don't resonate.
Perhaps your creativity is in the kitchen? Or in finding ways to entertain your children? Or building complex spreadsheets to solve a problem? Essentially, creativity is how 'problem solving' manifests itself. Any by-product or solution that you 'create' to overcome an obstacle is a form of creativity.
My creativity comes at me from many places. I go through peaks and troughs in the way I express myself.
Having published The Sheridan and Blake books in such quick succession - 4 books in 3 years - I've struggled to get back to creative writing.
I've had the concept for my next novel - a new series of books - floating around in my head since I first met 'Katarina Orlov' defending Tom and Sasha from an assassin at a tube station when I wrote 'Gabriel's Game, Part 1: The White Queen'.
I knew then that the sassy, bi-sexual, multilingual, freelance finder and single mum with the black cat tattoo on her back - Kat - would be my next star!
I decided to designate August as my month to bash out the first draft of that book 'Finding The Scream' and blogged about it HERE.
Here's the blurb for the latest book (I managed to extract that from myself last week!):
Alas, my month of writing wasn't to be, when a flurry of bookings and jobs landed in my inbox and screeched from my voicemail.
I couldn't even manage the two tips I offer to anyone facing a similar dilemma:
1) Build writing into your routine
2) Bum in chair, write!
I call this inability to conjure the muse 'Creative Constipation' - the discomfort and frustration of being blocked up!
Last week I had a breakthrough. I did two of the things on my list of 20 ways to get those creative juices flowing:
no. 14) Hang out with creative people
no. 18) Do something you've never done before
I went to a 'Boost Your Natural Confidence' event hosted by the lovely Hils Crisp and I went to a 'Creativity Circles' event hosted by the wonderful Mags MacKean as part of Bristol Festival of Literature.
Hils' event took us through some techniques to discover our confidence triggers.
I was heartened by how open the other people in the group were, considering we were complete strangers, we all shared our confidence challenges openly and it was great to see that we all recongnised so many of them. I came away feeling invincible!
Now, just to get one thing straight, I'm pretty cynical about anything that's too 'hippy-dippy' - the kind of mumbo-jumbo that makes my eyes roll because there is always a danger that if you are too open minded, your brain might just fall out!
On the face of it, what I'm about to share may seem to contradict that. However, I've known Mags for many years, I like and respect her so, although I wasn't sure what to expect, I trust in Mags' approach.
There was plenty of closed-eyes deep-breathing. There were stones to pass our doubts and fears into. Then we went looking for our tree - something solid, something we could imagine, something we could go back to, something that could embody our creativity.
I had a vivid image of my tree. It was enormous, broad, I could only just span my arms across it, heavy with fruit.
Without really realising what was happening, I shed tears of relief at finding and knowing the tree, a voice in the back of my brain whispering: "I see you!"
As the tears settled in the hollow of my throat, I imagined them seeping into the pounded earth and nourishing the roots of the tree. My tree. Laden with fruits of soft, juicy peach and crisp, zingy apples. I bite down on the resistant globe of an apple and feel the satisfaction of that crunch between my teeth. My apple, from my magic 'Papple tree'.Well, I guess there's no doubt in my mind now how powerful our imaginations can be!
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