V4, I16
I did another fancy-schmancy Instagram Reels this week, except this time I read one of the poems from last week’s newsletter instead of a story. I forgot (again!) to include any sort of link in the reel to Thursday!, which shows you just how bad I am at Leveraging My Platforms. The Social Media and Branding Gurus won’t even look directly at me, such is the distasteful nature of my failure.
Anyhow, this is it.
I have these semi-lofty plans1 for more videos, but they require a bit of tracking and something that resembles a schedule, so I know what I’m doing and when. Haphazard creation works only to a certain point. After that, you need to organize it.
That’s what I want to talk about just a little bit this week — what happens to you when you put your creativity on a schedule. I have thought for most of my life that scheduled creativity is stunted creativity. We hear that from a lot of places, don’t we? Kids shouldn’t have their creativity reined in by a school schedule because that will stunt them. If you have a certain time and place to create, you won’t be free to let your mind roam and play and your art will become sterile and “corporate”. Heck, I’ve heard more than once that “corporate” artists aren’t really artists because they create on a schedule and to deadline.
Of course that’s all bunk and good artists say so all the time, but the messages I heard a lot growing up tend to stick around longer, like the residue of an “I Voted” sticker on your favorite travel mug that won’t come off no matter how much you rub away at it2. It’s taken a while for me to get into my large and thick skull that, while I’m creating my art on a whim, there’s only so much of it I’ll be able to do. Whims are wasteful and unreliable. You can’t count on a whim. The very definition of “whim” speaks of flightiness and unpredictability. Whims twist and turn, veer away from you when you most want them to show up, and leave far too early.
Now, you can use whims as tinder for your creations — as starter material from which you build something more — but you have to build. And building doesn’t just happen. I am learning that my work has become stronger and more satisfying now that I’ve started do create as certain times, even if that time doesn’t happen on the same day or at the same time each day. I’d love to be able to block out eight hours for creation, like a full-time job, but that’s not in the cards and may never be. At this point, I don’t even have a dedicated Evening of Writing, though I’m inching toward one. I’m not good with setting and keeping my own schedules — outside schedules work far better for me — but as a up-and-coming creative wonder3, I’d better learn. And so I am.
My work is better for it. That’s what you’ll discover, too. Oh, I know about all those free spirits with their flights of creative genius and their muses that flit in and out like orbs in a credulous ghost hunter’s video. Truth is, the very act of deciding you will do this thing at this time makes that thing more important. It’s no longer a thing you get to whenever the mood strikes. Moods are, as Gurney Halleck4 said, for cattle and loveplay, not for fighting! Or, you know, artistic creation. Once you give your art the regular attention it deserves, you’ll make better art and you’ll get better at making art, which will make your art better yet. Isn’t that what you want? It’s sure as heck what I want. I want my stories to be better in six months then they are now. I want to be better not only at writing poetry but more efficient as well. That’s what happens with regularity and regularity only comes with a schedule.
Now, I’m not saying you should lock yourself into an unforgiving cage of creation. Your schedule can be flexible, as your life requires. Maybe you can’t work on the same day every week. Maybe it shifts. That’s fine. Let it shift when it must, but let it happen. Let there be a time when you say “Now, I make art” and you actually work at it. Decide it’s worth a dedicated chunk of your week.
Oh, and don’t worry about being productive. Please. Art isn’t linear and it sure as heck isn’t clean. So long as you remember the big goal, I think you’ll be fine.
Earlier, I mentioned being on a schedule. I want to be clear with you — my schedule is new, ugly, and sparse. I’ve only started to put my creative house in order and that order also includes a couple other new things in my life such as teaching an Adult Sunday School class regularly and searching for a new job. I’ve had to begin because I simply couldn’t keep everything straight in my head and I was afraid something important would fall through the cracks. I’m new to self-disciplining and making a schedule and I’m dead certain I’ll make mistakes here and there. That’ll have to be okay and I hope you’ll forgive me for being…not exactly cool, confident, and neatly put-together. I’d love to be those things but, well, that’s not me. Not at all.
How about an audio poem? Those are still good, right?
Semi-lofty plans are not quite as grand as lofty plans. They’re mid-altitude plans, like little drone plans, as opposed to jumbo jet plans whose doors might fall off mid-flight. Safety first!
Why yes, that is a very specific example. Why do you ask?
What??
Patrick Stewart is the One True Gurney and I will hear no more on the matter!
"Haphazard creation works only to a certain point. After that, you need to organize it." 🙌🙌🙌
I’m a big fan of crossing things off lists, so I write “write” in my planner Monday-Thursday. It doesn’t always get crossed off because of life, but it feels good when it does! 😃