Years of dabbling in the writing arts showed me how difficult it can be to force a pen to a piece of paper. There's this natural reaction of pen-to-paper resistance that becomes stronger in proportion to the ambitious quality of what I am trying to get the ink to portray. This phenomenon of opposing force can be so powerful, it causes the pen to fly out of my hand and behind the bookcase.
Persevering through the struggle by trying to psyche out the pen, telling it that I only want to jot down some boring notes for Math class, I have been able to get a few sentences in before the universe realizes what is going on. The sudden surge of opposing force compels the pen to scribble furiously over the meager word count. The paper then implodes into a tiny wad and flies out of my hand and behind the bookcase.
The lesson I've learned from this? The dark, narrow space behind a bookcase is a natural balancing zone for the universe. It doesn't matter how narrow that space is, either. Things will end up succumbing to its vacuum-like nature.
After years of repeated revivals of my desire to become an author of something really powerful and inspiring and entertaining, I finally came across a quote that is helping me understand what is really going on:
“Nobody tells this to people who are beginners, I
wish someone told me. All of us who do creative work, we get into it
because we have good taste. But there is this gap. For the first couple
years you make stuff, it’s just not that good. It’s trying to be good,
it has potential, but it’s not. But your taste, the thing that got you
into the game, is still killer. And your taste is why your work
disappoints you. A lot of people never get past this phase, they quit.
Most people I know who do interesting, creative work went through years
of this. We know our work doesn’t have this special thing that we want
it to have. We all go through this. And if you are just starting out or
you are still in this phase, you gotta know its normal and the most
important thing you can do is do a lot of work. Put yourself on a
deadline so that every week you will finish one story. It is only by
going through a volume of work that you will close that gap, and your
work will be as good as your ambitions. And I took longer to figure out
how to do this than anyone I’ve ever met. It’s gonna take awhile. It’s
normal to take awhile. You’ve just gotta fight your way through.” -Ira Glass
When I read that, everything turned around. Well, actually, nothing changed. It's still very hard to get those creative ideas flowing. What's different, you ask? Now I know why it's so hard to do, and with understanding that others have faced the same challenges and pulled through instead of just being gifted or endowed with pen-to-paper-resistance-nullifying magic powers, I truly believe at last that I can actually get to the other side of the ominous chasm where creativity turns into art.
Why Practice Raft? Well, I see it this way. I need to bridge the gap. The problem is, I know as soon as I build my bridge and start inching my way across it, it's bound to flip under my feet and tumble with me to the bottom of the chasm. This isn't as easy as crossing a bridge. As Mr. Glass has pointed out, a lot of work must be involved here. It's a game of trial and failure, over and over.
When I build my bridge, I'm making something that will float so that when I crash into the water at the bottom, I can start paddling to the other side. When storms of self-doubt and lack of ability come along, I'll keep paddling. All that rain is eventually going to fill up the chasm and I will at last climb onto the distant shore.
So let's start this thing! I'll post everything I write, one story a week, until my weakness improves and there will be no way to fit it into a seven-day period. Any words of wisdom, advice and encouragement are appreciated. One way or another, I'm going to make it!
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