Inspiration is found when working on what matters most and what you as the author need most. Sometimes that’s taking a break, or focusing on organization, or ignoring all that and pushing through to write. In this latter case it’s breaking through that proverbial shit and enduring the smell until protruding out in the light until just enough of you is where clarity and vision are.
So, if inspiration is not present or coming, it suggests procrastination from what is needed in favor of doing what is easier. Not “sitting idle,” world-building, character profiles, etc. is not writing and likely is easier for you than writing. Am I wrong?
Oh, I know people say world-building, characters profiles, etc. is writing, but that greatly depends on your unique brain structure and integration. And typically–initially–it can be writing, but with time and how we as humans are wired, with our crossover brain patterns, it can become factual and left-brained, list-like, which does not embrace creative juices, and actually hinders creativity as more and more established facts play against fiction.
On this, welcome to the club, and in understanding why writing is so damn hard. So, what I do when I hit where you’re at? I find roleplay and questions stir the stagnant waters of creativity. Things like talking to my character.
“Okay [character’s name], here’s your scene and we know the stakes, Or do you know the stakes? [I seriously wait for a reply, until I hear their voice.] Okay then, surprise me. What is everyone missing about this scene or situation? And what will you do to make me care about your role in it?”
I wait and listen again. I then ask the supporting characters similar questions. “How do you plan to support this scene in a powerful but not distracting way?” I make the setting a character as if some invisible effects person is there, (Setting is a character.) I ask, “When they open the window, what’s going to happen? Why do we need that?” . . . eventually i get to, “Okay. Okay. Glad we’re all on this page [this literal page]. Places people. Now, ACTION!”
The shift is to creativity and understanding. When I’m ready, I literally have the blank page before me, and I laugh, cry, get angry, etc. as they surprise me, disappoint me, thrill me, scare me, even inspire me. Here, ideas and inspiration are not lacking; it becomes more of a matter of what I must cut.
Of course, the mere fact of having a conversation with someone that is not technically there is clinically schizophrenic. I embrace this perception, because it’s creative. And forcefully so. Thus my method in this madness is that in doing this, I shift the pressure on to my characters and take it off myself. They perform or get the axe from the scene, and enough axes from enough scenes means they are regulated to extras. My characters want to perform for me. And if for some reason, they’re not feeling it as the scene unfolds, I move to another one. But literally every day it’s a question of constant revelation as I treat everything like actors or effect professionals in my mind. I do NOT stop the take–stop the action–to jot notes for what must come or something they revealed. I am the genius, they need to know that. The scene must complete. Then, and only then, do I move on with something their genius–which they’ll likely never get credit for–may have revealed which might be of value to some potential scene in the future. It’s cutthroat, but that’s how I like it.
And when I’m in this state, only emergencies of blood, death, or similar importance in the real world have the right to interrupt my role as director/writer. Because I’ve learned switching out of creative mode to organizational mode or real world mode is the killer of momentum when something is not finished.
With you being in high school, with today’s ridiculous standards of testing and failed educational systems, where teachers are becoming more like clinicians; kids like yourself are pressured to take this class, do this extracurricular activity, prove you can pass an eye test for colleges/universities or demonstrate that you have risen above your peers to embrace only more debt . . . your time to explore and play is being taken from you. My children’s recess was being supplanted for “knowledge” instead of play. Play, what every child must do to learn and consequently every author must continue to do; you must claim it back, even if it makes you appear insane to those around you.
Learn to say, “No,” so you can say “Yes,” to what you value and dream of. The price we pay is often in the “No’s,” we’re willing to say, with all their loss of opportunity and association, because doing so allows us the actual time to say, “Yes,” to the things that matter to us.
Begin the questions, run the scene as I suggested. See if it helps. And hopefully we’ll see you and your works in print.