The other day someone referred to me as “creative”, and that got me thinking. Most of the time, I’m grateful for my imagination. It’s gotten me through many a meeting without having to spike my ubiquitous water bottle with something clear, strong and illegal in Utah. But it’s also responsible for such weird quirks as my never falling asleep in the passenger seat of a moving car without first envisioning in great detail what would happen instantly to my body upon our vehicle’s impact with another car — as if being awake to witness an accident would help all that much. So, yes, sometimes I’d like to drag my imagination outside and drop it off a cliff. I can just picture it: the mischievous little sprite crying and begging for mercy as I dangle it further over the abyss, all the while — see? There it goes again.
Despite my all-too-active imagination, however, I don’t consider myself particularly creative. Creative types wear flashy colors and dye their hair and spout weird poetry even they don’t understand. They can paint elaborate forest scenes with the brush held between their toes and weave blankets incorporating native styles from around the world. They are geniuses, whereas I feel merely adequate.
“Oh, but you write,” people tell me when I disclose such thoughts. “You must be creative to make up all that stuff.”
But I’m not so sure. It feels as if my task as a writer is not to create characters, plot, and dialogue, but to leave myself open to them. The characters (or Dolores, my cranky muse) then tell me what to type.
The secret is out: I don’t write. I take dictation. And how creative is that?
Shesawriter, I think you are so right! I suppose that at least it means we’re less prone to boredom than the average person, since we can just listen to the voices in our heads, right?
Alyssa, it must be so difficult to get back into writing again each time! I feel for you. Still, it would be nice to shut off those voices at will.
Thanks, Swishy!
LOL, Mizzz_K! I hope that someday she will follow through and end up with a book after all. Imagine how proud she’ll be then!
77free, those are wonderful points. I see what you mean, about creativity manifesting itself differently if you tend to be an introvert or an extrovert. I’m more introverted, so I suppose it makes sense that any creativity I might have would come out in something like internal dialogue and writing.
You take dictation from a muse named Dolores? Sounds pretty creative to me. 🙂
Maybe we’re all creative, but we don’t know it. I say this as I slog through this second book, feeling decidedly uncreative. 🙂
Thanks, Barrie! Of course, Dolores is the one doing all the creating, so… 😉
And good luck with your second book! I’m sure it’s better than you think.
Hi again. You are a writer therefore, an artist. The paper (or screen) is your canvas and those words that you type are your paints. Have no doubt you belong with the artists whose quotes are in my post. Thank you for coming by and you should add one, some other readers have added to the list. All the best. Veronica
Thanks, veronicaromm. That’s always nice to hear. And I loved the quotes you posted.
Unfortunately I’ve been told I was weird since way into my childhood, and often, so I think I allowed it to sink in. Though I don’t particularly feel “weird” either.
Then again I have a theory that, in a way, we’re all a little crazy.
After all, aren’t we writers always talking about these fictional people that won’t give us a moment’s peace? *grin*
As one of the previous commentors said, the mere fact that we both have and listen to these “voices” must count for something. If not creativity then maybe insanity?
I personally choose to see it as the former. After all, straight-jackets just aren’t classy anymore.