Following up a bit on yesterday’s post about following a calling, sometimes I wonder where the words come from.
This story helps to illustrate the point. At one point, a music journalist was interviewing a British rock star: I believe Mick Jagger or Keith Richards (both of The Rolling Stones) was being interviewed – we’ll assume it was Mick. The journalist asked Mick about songwriting. Pete Townsend, the guitarist and main songwriter for The Who, had talked about songwriting in interviews and said that his song lyrics came from divine inspiration. He felt that he was the conduit or channel by which some higher power was communicating. The journalist asked Mich what he thought about this idea.
Mick sneered back at the interviewer and said that Pete was full of shit. HIS songs came from HIM, not some “other place” or other person.
# # #
While this story may not be 100% accurate, it does illustrate an interesting point about the creative process: where does all of this stuff come from? Is content purely the product of memories, thoughts, and linkages that come from our own minds or are we tapping into some other well of creativity (I’ve been mulling around a concept from months called the Fields of Awe, although it’s purely an intangible thought-construct) where good ideas come from?
There’s no evidence that the latter is true, at least none that I am aware of. But it’s still an intriguing concept. For example, even as I type this article, without prior planning, the words come so quickly at times that I’m not consciously selecting them; they just seem to flow from my mind, unbidden.
This could merely be the result of a super-fast process by which my thoughts are turned into letters and words, so fast that it seems like they are emerging on the screen without my intervention. At other times, many of us need to stop and think, think, think until we find the right words. Even then, it may take several tries to get it right.
Having an outline seems to make a difference. Just the presence of a plan, with trigger words and idea, can help bring the other words to light.
But what if you are writing spontaneously? Where are the words coming from in that scenario? Again, is it just rapid cognition and muscle movements, or is it coming from somewhere else?
This article feels like it has grown on its own, although the reality is that I have stopped several times to think, reorient, or even edit some of the stuff that I’ve written. However, it’s largely emerging without much of a plan. The way it has emerged is not something that I foresaw or planned.
This doesn’t mean that I believe that I’m tapping into some invisible force to write this particular blog post. However, I am wondering what other people think of this idea.
What do you think? Is your writing (or other content creation) a consciously planned activity where you meticulously select and compose each word, sentence, or paragraph? Or does it feel like you’re just taking some supernatural form of dictation? And does it feel any different when you’re typing on your own in private vs. when you’re interacting via the various forms of social media?
Please share your thoughts in the comments, I’m really curious about this.
Very often I feel the words flowing, though sometimes I do slow down and choose carefully (usually when I am going for a specific image/metaphor) – not counting revision. This happens both in social media and in private writing, though strangely, I'm more likely to self-edit when writing fiction. Social media, as more of a conversation with friends/associates, is “allowed” to have some mistakes!
Ultimately I think what it comes down to is the importance of reading, reading, reading. Because then the ideas/thoughts/words come from you AND others.
Revision is definitely a different process – it would be hard to perform revision spontaneously without some conscious choices. And I can certainly understand self-editing in fiction because you are working towards a polished product.
Reading is another good point; many times I'm influenced by the words of another writer or thinker and I build from them.
When the words flow, though, where does it feel like they are coming from?
A lot of poets, especially, but other artists have described the source of their inspiration more along the lines of Townsend. Wordsworth called himself a “midwife”, merely the mechanical means through which his art became manifest.
I think it's like this because the worst forms of art are invariably the “motivated” ones. They're characterized by the forced nature of their creation. So, for example, imagine yourself saying, ” Okay, right now I'm going to sit down and write the most heart-rending love sonnet ever written.” We know the result before pen hits paper: stilted, clumsy, phoney.
The “calling” is something of different, but related animal to the Muse. It's metaphorical, of course, which is something Mick Jagger didn't really understand apparently. The calling is more related to vocation than art, but it still speaks to the unmotivated force impelling ones action. The calling merely stands in for this meaning by situating the voice, the caller, outside of oneself. Obviously, you don't call to yourself, but your mother downstairs will call you upstairs to say “Supper's ready!”.
So, the calling's best examples go with people like Ghandi or Mother Theresa. Human need, external to these people appeared to call them directly, and they answered the voice, not unlike the way you'd answer your mom, “I'm coming”.
So, like motivated crappy poetry, a “designed” career is probably going to miss the mark. You'll probably be miserable. Probably because it's so self-centred, so private and individualistic. Fulfillment, I think most people will agree, most strike a harmonious balance between public and private lives. You can't force yourself on the public. That won't work. You've got to hear the calling, that external voice which seems to be calling just you.
So you get this uber-helpful guys like Chris Brogan, a guy who obviously understands that success or fulfillment in social media can't be strickly self-motivated. He listens. He has a calling and it comes from “out there”, or “down there” in the case of mom.
This stuff is all literary, going back to Greek drama with the likes of the Oracle of Delphi, or the Bible, as in the Burning Bush, and throughout English literature. In this respect a guy like Chris is the Moses of Social Media, leading the rest of us from bondage to the promised land.
My two cents.
Thanks for provoking thought!
bob
This is one of the best comments I've ever received (or read!) Thanks!
Ha ha, oh Mick and Pete, such asses to each other.
Anyway, as someone who writes for a living (although not under conditions as intense as, say, journalism) I think that writing is a muscle that you flex and strengthen through regular use. Bloggers do this but they don't necessarily become good writers (at least not quickly) because they might just be wanking on about their cats or some personal trivia or they might just really need an editor. But that's all right, every little bit helps, and at least with blogging there is some chance of useful feedback and maybe even an occasional critique.
As for “where the words come from,” I think that some of us are able to extemporaneously roll off impressive-sounding structures right from the top of mind, giving the appearance of divine or muse inspiration, the best example I can think of being Oscar Wilde; whereas others (like myself) have to write and rewrite and put it away for a while and then edit again and finally just grit our teeth and publish it so we can move on to something else (cf. Stephen King's “On Writing”). I don't think it really matters how it happens as long as the author feels he is putting his best snapshot of the work out there at the time.
Thanks Mark. You wrote a post inspiring thought! Further to the calling, I'd ask anyone to think about it, imagine theirs. I'll bet you're staring off into space towards something far away and definitely external. That's because you're listening for the voice/concept/idea/inspiration to emerge from “out there”. Townsend can call it “divine”, others something else, but it doesn't matter, you're definitely NOT looking into your solar plexus, searching your “inner” being.
I guess my point here is that we so often forget the metaphorical basis of our thinking and sublime logic (or beauty) it can communicate. One NEVER calls out to oneself, literally, for the simple reason that you're right here. The calling is only necessary, physically, literally speaking when the caller is at a distance, a far distance. For the same reason if someone is calling to you within your circle of personal space, you might say, “Stop shouting at me! I'm right here for cripes sakes!”
So those who follow their calling, by this logic, are drawn, not pushed. To answer the call one must move towards the call's origin. In short, to answer a calling, one must step out and beyond constrictures and confines of one's own self. Notice, too, that the word “vocation” has the Latin “voice” as its root. It means literally something (like a career) which has been invoked or impelled by a voice.
Again, another metaphor. We're dead without them. We can't think without them.
And to get in my ideological two cents, I eschew the popular notion that content is everything. Content is nothing without form. Unless one masters the formal properties of communication, content is merely dumpster full of gems. Form is what makes the ring, the crown, the neckless precious. I guess this also speaks to design and it's inescapable importance in shaping content.
The great bloggers possess a formal genius, even if it's unconscious. The most boring, lifeless blogs are often the most content rich. But who wants to read the phone book, the epitomy of content!
Evidently, you've pushed one of my buttons! In the nicest way. Thanks.
bob
bob
That was a lovely post.
The mechanism may not matter in the end, but it's fascinating to me.
I'm starting to see some benefit in the idea of writing something, then putting it away for future consideration. Looked at a draft post that had been sitting for about a month and thought “man, that needs work.”
Fields of Awe…what a beautiful, evocative phrase. As an Artist, I've often tumbled questions around in my brain, similar to those you pose here. Where do the words, (or in my case, images), come from? When thinking about a current or upcoming project, my brain uses visual images-not words. If it's a sculpture I'm working on, I manipulate the piece in my mind's eye. I'll rotate it, alter and enhance the color of an area, add a side- raking light, or change the viewer's perspective. A front view easily morphs to an areial perspective or an ant's view from a 3/4 angle. I'll check the mechanics-the inner nut and bolts of exactly how this could be constructed. When I “see” something I like, or that solves a problem, I'll “freeze” the image and inspect it in greater detail. Upon finding those elements that seem to make this particular version “work” for me, I'll increase the dominance of those aspects and see if this improves the piece even further…Anyway, you get the idea. It's a rather focused “free-flow” that's largely hunt and peck. I edit the image as I go along. While this is going on, I'm not consciously “choosing” which manipulations to apply. The piece takes on a life of it's own in there. Mostly it's evolution simply shows itself to me. I can start or stop it. I can even choose to insert my own wishes and the imagery willingly responds. Yet the process works best as I let it unfold on it's own. As the varying mutations flicker in my mind, there are moments of illumination. You see something that makes you gasp a bit ; you are riveted by what you see. (No question-now you're onto something)! In this excited moment, your focus is racheted up and you feel full of possibility. And sometimes this trips a “cascade” effect. Suddenly, images burst into life-coming fast and furious. Sparking and winking-in and out of existance. Your job then, is to simply try to keep up; by soaking it in without trying to do anything. The aim is to absorb all that you can and examine it later…after the flow has ebbed to a halt. Needless to say-you can never remember it all; yet you get more than you'll ever be able to actually produce. It's quite magical really. I've come to my own conclusions about this sort of thing. Many would likely disagree heartily, or even sneer. That's fine. They can and should interpret such things for themselves. My own take on it is this…The human brain is wonderous, but not an end-point. Rather it is part of a chain/process/system. I think there is an “Element”-something real that exists, that is so all encompassing it is not readily perceived. This Element is creative in nature. All the universe-every leaf, dog, person, lampost, building, moonbeam and star that twinkles, or galaxcy that swirls is a manifestation of it; a tangible facet of it. It has one foot in two realms. The seen, and the unseen; the visible and invisible. Things like Love, gravity, and resonance are all powerful examples of this real, yet unseen realm This Element-God, Life Force, or another label of your own choosing-seems to me to be the source of all things. The “spark” which ignited the Big Bang into existance is the same Element our brains attune to-allowing for a flow of ideas, inspirations and epiphanies. Like satellite dishes, we seek and collect signals. Always trying to percieve further, hoping to understand…Probably sounds corny, I know. But what can you do? Mozart always said his works appeared within him-every note of the orchestra woven together of their own accord. Inexplicable-though I cannot disagree. Whatever the origin, it's pretty miraculous. And beyond me to capture with simple words. Thanks for provoking the conversation. Cheers!
[...] wrote a post called Where the words come from where I speculated on this [...]