Open Writing

The date is looming, the page is blank and your mind is in a panic. We have all had it at some time, the dreaded Writer’s Block. A deadline and nothing to say. Help! What to do? You could write a load of drivel, you could repeat the same old thing, but you want a change and change won’t come.

The thing about deadlines is they creep ever closer, like the tide coming in. You have nowhere to go. That big cliff, “Publication Day,” is looming and the more you think about it the more you panic and the less likely you are to come up with any good ideas. Got the feeling? Been there? Which of us hasn’t? Doodles on blank pages, winking words on the computer screen, then you press the delete button and they are gone.

Make a cup of coffee. I’ve just made one. Pace about, drum fingers and worry. It doesn’t work, so leave it alone and go and do something else. No need to worry.

It’s “Writers Week” next week and the topic for discussion is sitting there in front of me and I can’t think of a thing to say about it. Should I write a poem? What kind of a poem? Blank verse or rhyme, serious or humorous? Should I knock off a mundane piece of work, just to get the right number of words on the page, but that wouldn’t be right, wouldn’t stretch me enough. Perhaps I should miss the meeting, pretend to be sick or something, that would be cheating. What to do?

I wonder if Shakespeare ever got writer’s block. Did he get stuck after the words “To be or not to be” or did someone knock at the door, asking for a cup of sugar, and disturb him. What would have happened if the muse had not returned to inspire him? We would never have had that wonderful speech.

Which brings me to the “elusive muse.” Where does it wander off to? Why does it let you down when you frantically need it? It is such a “will of the wisp.” It suits itself when it will perform. We have all been there; this writing business isn’t as easy as it looks.

Of course we can always resort to the “who, why, what, when and where,” use the old tricks of the trade and very useful they are too. But for the really creative stuff you are seeking that extra something. The thing which makes the reader grasp your words and give full attention. But where do you find it? “The elusive pimpernel.”

Nor is it just the written word, it is the spoken word too. You know the feeling. You are guest speaker, words altogether on their bits of paper, important bits highlighted, like a check list, and above all DON’T READ THE SPEECH, or at least, don’t seem to be reading it.

You practice for hours in front of the bathroom mirror, the right lift of the eyebrow, the right hand movement, when to pause, when to raise your voice, when to drop it. You don’t need notes, you know it backwards.

On the night, you walk up to the rostrum, suitably attired, the picture of confidence, even though your heart is going fifty to the dozen. With nonchalance, you place your neat pile of notes on the rostrum and, oops, it has no ledge and everything finishes up on the floor. Yes it has happened to me and probably to you. You miss the golden opportunity to wave your hand and say, “who needs them anyway,” and grovel about on the floor trying to pick them up and put them in order. You have lost the moment

Then there is the voice problem, in mid sentence, thoroughly into your stride, it suddenly comes out like a high squeak or deep croak or you have a fit of coughing. The mike plays up, issues a loud whistle or fails to work. Oh joy of joys, never again.

Poets Night. You are up against the “big guns.” You know, the sort of people who publish books and have big names. Your efforts seem feeble beside theirs, then, wonder of wonders, you find your good stuff can match them. You get asked to speak elsewhere, then you spot someone in the audience who has heard your work. “Can’t do that” you think. Don’t panic, all good poets repeat their work; it is only we poor amateurs who think we should write something better every time. There is no such thing as perfection and that elusive muse keeps going off somewhere, usually when you need it the most.

Ah well, not to worry. My coffee has gone cold and lo and behold, I have just had a good idea for Writers’ Group, so I am off to do my homework.