No More Winter Creative Blocks: 10 Minutes A Day Promise

Hi all of my lovely readers!

I hope in the interim you have enjoyed my posts on my personal blog about Generosity. I'm sorry I haven't been here in a couple months.

http://community412.typepad.com/photos/uncategorized/2008/04/18/generosity.jpg

I should have forced myself to write more.

But it's also winter.

While I always thought that I was less creative in winter, studies show that our brains DO NOT seem to be affected by winter, that it's really our attitudes. I say lack of seeing the sunshine is part of it.

I can't blame winter for 2 reasons. 1, This has been the mildest, weirdest, and un-winter-like winter in a long time for my area. We missed the big February snowfall, the sleet didn't even turn to layers of ice, and the largest accumulation of snow in January was a few inches. And 2, work has been all-consuming. I have been so burnt out from the trials of the day with the addition of paperwork that I came home simply to not think about it.

I should have been 'not thinking about it' by creating new characters, scenes, settings, or doing fun research for my writing projects. I should have worked on some outlines.

It's my attitude that influenced by work habits. I did what I felt like doing, which we all should do sometimes, but it wasn't what I should have been doing. I felt like being a lump. I felt like not thinking for a while. This is not really healthy if it continues over long periods of time. They say for every day you take off from writing, your Muse takes off three..

I did write a little Ficlatté about the death of my Muse.

Detective Hawk reached a gloved hand to the light switch. In the moment before the room was bathed in light, she braced herself for a scene of unknowable atrocity. It was not difficult to kill a muse, they are quite delicate, but at times the results can be quite macabre.

click

She squinted. Stark reality was hard on the pupils. A lithe figure, white feathered wings drooping from two graceful shoulders used to bearing the weight of the world curled around a body stooped limply yet stiffly across the top of a writing desk. Ink cascaded down a single white page and puddled on the floor thickly. A pale head, thankfully turned away from the Detective, rested on the ink stained page. Her feather quill had fallen to the floor. Elegant legs were still tucked under the desk.

She could have been asleep.

Unfortunately, the Detective had no choice but to walk over and stare into the vacant, open eyes of crystal blue.

"What happened to you, goddess?" she breathed in awe.

She began to search for clues.

It's not the best thing I've ever written, but it was a way to cope with the loss of being creative in any way.

To free up my creative energy, I am going to try to freewrite for 10 minutes a day. It might become longer, but a promise to myself of just 10 minutes should do wonders for healing my Muse. Truly, she is not really dead, but in a coma.

A person can do a lot of things in 10 minutes.

What can you do in 10 minutes?

Also, comment on ways you fight against creative blocks, not just writer's. :) I'd love to hear some strategies!