Dear Writers: Be a Bird

Need a pep talk to help you get creative? 

Here's a modified version of a message I recently sent to my writing students.



Dear Writers,

Are you frustrated?

Do you want to write - or even feel like you have to write, only you simply can't face a blank page today? 

Have no fear. The beginnings of a new piece might be closer than you think.

Do you keep a journal? 

Do you have a spiral notebook filled with pages of smudged ink and scrawling freewrites? 

How about a description of a dream on a dusty scrap of paper beside your bed?

Or what about a letter or this week's grocery list?

If so, then you may have the seeds of a story or poem or creative essay at your fingertips.

Go ahead. Enjoy a deep breath and get ready to riff, to play with the words you've already written.

Think small. Pretend you're a bird, pecking away at a word or a sentence or a character's name.

Playing with words is a lot like moving the furniture. Try a chair by the window instead of the wall. Turn your couch so it's on a diagonal. Put a plant on a table where it's more of a presence.

Boom! You have a fresh perspective and a new room.

The same could be said of your writing. Maybe you could flip through an old notebook and find 3 images or lines or paragraphs with potential. It might even be just one word that gets you going. Got tomatoes on your grocery list? What do they make you think of? Red? What does red bring to mind? A car, a carnation, a dress?

This is what I've been doing lately with my chapbook-in-progress. Last year I started scribbling any thought I had related to the color green, and now I have 42 pages of rough drafts that are begging me to come out and play. I figure that's plenty of material to keep me occupied for a long time.

When my brain feels overwhelmed by our current situation, I don't say I'll edit my chapbook today. I say I'll chip away at one line, one poem. That's a tiny goal I can meet, and when I can actually meet a goal, I can get some momentum - and endorphins - going.

Maybe I jazz up a verb (say saunter into a room, not walk). Maybe I add more detail. Maybe find a synonym that sounds less predictable.

Here's an example. In one of my older poems, I've imagined what happened the night of my birth. Taking another look at that piece recently, I decided it needed stronger imagery.

I originally said that when my dad first held me he was wearing a cranberry-colored cardigan. I played with that line for a few days until I hit on this:The poem now says my dad reached out for me with a brush of whiskers and a wool sleeve.

I like the new wording because it has alliteration (that rolling rhythm of whiskers and wool - yum!) and also the sensory imagery. I was born in the middle of the night, so my dad would have been a little scratchy...unless he insisted on shaving before driving my mom to the hospital. Also, the new line combines description and action. My dad isn't simply wearing a cardigan. He's reaching for me. A powerful moment, indeed, that expresses how he felt about meeting me.

I think the change makes the poem richer in another way, too. Without coming out and saying so, the whiskers and the scratchy sweater imply that my relationship with my dad wasn't perfect, which is true. Not because he wasn't a wonderful human (he was amazing), but simply because he was wonderfully human, just as we all are. How cool is that - all that information in just one line, and I came to it just by fumbling around.

Yes, writing is a way to communicate. But playing with words, discovering new ways to say something, is also fun - something I bet you could use right now.

Remember, think small. Who knows? Maybe it will help your pandemic writing practice - and your sanity - thrive.