I dream and write. I daydream and write. I have nightmares and write. See a general theme?
I find inspiration everywhere in overheard conversations, magazine articles, social media posts, stunning photographs, and occasionally my own life interactions.
Ideas, dialogue, characters, and voices swirl about my mind.
It’s magical, unique, and indescribable. Sometimes it’s even lightning in a bottle.
The words flow faster than I can type.
Then one day, the magic stops, and my mind becomes cluttered with real life.
Worry, doubt, anxiety, and insecurity move in. I call them the troublesome foursome.
They leave the toilet seat up, eat the last of my chocolate stash, record over my Hallmark movies, and leave globs of toothpaste in the sink. The troublesome foursome stifles my creativity and kills my flow.
They murmur questions I’m too afraid to answer.
Will you like what I write? Will you see the complexities of my characters like I do? Or did I write them flat and one-dimensional?
Are my plot twists believable? Are the pace and timing correct? Will you get lost in the storyline? Will you like the words I weaved together? Will the rising action meet the climax? Will you love or hate the ending?
Will you finish the book? Will you think it’s a cliché, undeveloped, or over narrated? Or will you put it down halfway through to collect dust on the nightstand or, even worse, the dreaded bookshelf?
After the foursome’s arrival, I stare at the blinking cursor, waiting for the magic to return. When it doesn’t spontaneously appear out of thin air, I wonder, what’s on television? Should I bake sugar cookies to binge on while I scroll past hundred of shows on Netflix? Should I walk my dogs because we both could use the exercise after eating too many sugar cookies?
Should I phone a friend to get off their hate list because I’ve ignored them for the last six months? Should I troll social media to compare my ordinary life to everyone’s highlight reel and consequently make myself feel worse, even after eating a dozen cookies and walking my dogs around the block?
See, this is the clutter that is my mind when having the troublesome foursome around.
And only when I have wasted enough time, grown annoyed with my own procrastination, and weary from piddling around will I finally evict the bothersome foursome, only for the magic to reappear. Then, I’m back in the flow.
If you can relate, then pull up a chair, and let’s chat. My name is GiGi Meier. What’s yours? Oh, and it’s nice to meet you.