from the Writing Files
of Children's Author and Educator
Barbara Jean Hicks
Birthdays are always good days for new beginnings -- especially Big-O birthdays! So last week, on the occasion of my latest Big-O, I started what I hope will become a lasting habit. It takes 21 days of doing something regularly, the latest research says, for an activity to develop into a habit. I'm five days in and committed: I'm writing a poem every night before I go to sleep. Moreover, I'm writing it in email, from my iPad right in bed, and sending it to myself at a second email address, where I read it first thing in the morning.
I don't expect these late-night poems to be works of art. I DO expect that some will be pure dreck! But it may just be that I find a few gems in the mix, and certainly lots of raw material for other writing.
The idea is to be spontaneous--to write about whatever comes to mind: things I've done that day, things I've seen; people encountered, emotions felt, thoughts pondered. But sometimes, already I've discovered, nothing comes. One night I started at 10:30, thinking I'd lay my head down by eleven. I made a dozen false starts. Delete, delete, delete. Again and again. Finally, getting close to one in the morning, I decided to write about the Muse who stood me up. It flowed. The next day I realized I'd met with a muse after all--just not the one I'd expected.
Is this experience familiar to any other writers out there--Waiting for Inspiration?
WAITING FOR INSPIRATION
We had a date,
My Muse and I,
Here, in bed,
at half past ten.
I got here early.
Brought a bottle of wine to share--
An Old Vine Cabernet
I knew would please him.
I poured myself a glass.
And waited.
I poured myself another glass.
And waited.
Now it's just past one,
And the bottle's almost gone...
I thought we had a date, my Muse and I.
Wrong day? Wrong time? Wrong wine?
I'll try again tomorrow.
Maybe bring a nice, dry Chardonnay.
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