Today when I went out for my walk, I took along a small notebook tucked snugly into my hip pocket. Ideas for my next collaborative fiction posts, snatches of conversation and description often come to me as I’m walking along with my brain disconnected, but by the time I get home I’ve forgotten them and they’re lost for good. So, I thought I could perch on a stile or fallen tree and scribble these flashes of brilliance down in the notebook as-and-when I think of them. Okay, so this idea is probably a no-brainer to any creative writing gurus who might happen to read this, but it was a giant mental leap for Jerry-kind.
Tomorrow, I will even remember to take a pen too….
Thinking about the notebook idea, it occurs to me to wonder if, after declaring for years that I am a humble roleplay writer, with neither talent or aspiration to be anything more literary, all these writing tips and advice I’m surrounded by in the communities I frequent might not be rubbing off on me – am I starting to take my writing seriously, egads?! No, no, I can quickly reassure myself on that account! Writing is, and always will be, nothing more a modest outlet of personal creativity for me. I admire those with ambitions, but I’ve long since learned that for me, the moment I undertake something too seriously it becomes a duty and not a pleasure.
I leave you with one of my favourite thought-provoking quotations from Jung: “But, if you have nothing at all to create, then perhaps you create yourself.”
