getting inspired

The thought of writing a book might, for some, come off as something easy to do. Just come up with a story and start writing. Easy, right? Of course it is. That’s why everybody is doing it.

Or that it’s even glamorous. It’s just you and your computer, a notebook, a few pencils, lit candles, comfy clothes, a sense of calm and satisfaction sitting by your desk that’s located towards one of your windows at home and looking out to your garden or whatever view you have, gathering inspiration for the scene you’re typing out. There might even be music playing in the background, so low that it sounds like it’s playing from another room. The thing is that all of this could absolutely be true, but..

It’s also sitting in your sweaty T-shirt for hours in a hot space and not realizing that you smell bad until you lift your arms up to stretch them while yawning so intensely and your armpits say hello. It’s standing up from sitting for a few hours, again!, and the dizziness hitting you like a ball to the head because oh yeah, it’s 5pm and you haven’t eaten or drunk anything since 8.47am. Obsessing over a scene that works perfectly in your mind, but finding it hard to put it in writing and being as stubborn as a child during their terrible-two’s and not accepting defeat. There’s also the necessity of putting oneself in situations that’s a bit questionable for the sake of the story. Some sexy and fun and some just filled with question marks after the fact.

Inspiration, to create stories in my case, exists everywhere if one can master the art of noticing. It’s worth it to take a second and just notice. Simple. Take a look at your surroundings to find beauty in the everyday. For inspiration, for creativity and for joy. Sometimes one must dig deep within depending on what you want to write. Don’t be afraid to be curious since that could not only change your overall life, but also your creative and artistic work. Some of my stories are developed because of my own experiences, experiences I wish I had and some are created thanks to my friends from now and before with crackhead-behaviors. It’s truly as simple as that. Well… sometimes it is.

As I wrote in my previous post, my love for literature has always been grand. After reading so many books, there were thoughts about becoming an author, but I never took them seriously and it was like this for years but at the same time these thoughts wouldn’t leave my mind alone. I had to be honest with myself and explore why in the hell these thoughts came back and persisted as much as they did.

So here I am working on two books, an idea for a series and another series of short stories. My brain feels heavy at times and there are days where I’m so fucking tired of words, I talk to myself (occasionally not even realizing that I’m using my outside voice) when trying to figure out if a conversation in a scene works. It’s being focused on cooking dinner and then leaving it all on the stove in a stressful rush because my God did I have a brilliant idea for a plot, a scene or even another book and I need a pen and paper to write it down NOW!

And I couldn’t be happier.