Accéder au contenu principal

Creativity 101

 


If you search online for «how to write?» you’ll get a lot of results ranging from using a pen and paper to rules of proper grammar, but no good advice about the creative part of writing, which is what most people struggle with. I admit, it’s not easy, but there are some tricks that help.

Most, if not all, things that we enjoy are just good writing: from movies to music, even those silly YouTube videos we watch when we’re bored. That's why sometimes I like to look into the process behind them and how they were made.
A Hitchcock film appears to me as something divine, that could have only been sent to him
in a dream by the Gods of writing and ideas. But when I started looking into it I realized
that he started off with a very basic idea. Then, many things were added and others
scraped off when he realized they didn’t fit, and he slowly kept polishing as he went further into the creation.
Therefore the process of creating such a movie didn’t come in one session, in fact it wasn’t even done when the writing part was over, they kept adding and removing and changing all the way through, during the writing, the casting, the filming and the editing.
And so, whenever I want to start writing I remind myself that expecting perfection from the first pen stroke gets me nowhere, and that I need to make the rough shape of my creation and keep polishing it as I see fits.

But the question that everyone poses is «HOW DO I START?»
Well my answer is « I  D U N N O ».

But I can tell you what helps me personally: having a general idea about where I’m starting and just writing an intro expecting to go back and change it when I write the rest.
But what do you do when you want to write but don't really know what to write about?
That’s where I implement an advice I heard so many times but only understood when I
needed to write: less is more. Put limits for yourself and you’ll be able to focus more on
one aspect of the creative process instead of everything. When the possibilities are
endless it’s hard to find a starting point. That’s why some artists limit themselves to one or two materials to use in painting, that’s why some limit themselves to certain musical instruments or certain scales. Contrary to your expectations, it gives more possibilities of creativeness. One thing I like to do is use a random sentence generator and write about whatever it gives me, you can try it yourself and use it as practice, sometimes great ideas can emerge.

Try to find inspiration in everything around you, from people and events, write what you
know. One becomes a writer by writing, but one becomes a good writer by reading and
observing the world around them. I can’t count how many times I felt inspired looking at a painting or reading and thinking I could write something better, sometimes I just mishear something, and when I realize that’s not what was said I find myself wondering what could’ve been if that first idea was true.
Don’t be ashamed of getting inspired by other works of art, the rule that nothing is lost, nothing is created, everything is transformed applies to art too, every novel is a remix of the dictionary, so go ahead, read everything you can, listen to everything you can and make your own interpretations, let those misunderstandings fuel your creativity.
As for the ending, you will reach a point and know just when to stop.





Youssef Toumi

“Artistic expression is like a cough, you have to let it out to relieve yourself.”


Commentaires

Posts les plus consultés de ce blog

À ceux qui rêvent de bottes mal cirées, de veston médiocre et de chapeaux bas-de-forme (2)

    Le videur me scrute avec ce regard d’homme habitué à voir les âmes chavirer. Il n’a pas besoin de parler. Son corps massif est une injonction silencieuse : l’heure est venue de quitter ce refuge de misère, d’aller s’effondrer ailleurs. Je lui rends un sourire absent, un rictus d’homme qui sait qu’il n’a plus rien à perdre. J’ai dépassé l’heure où l’on tolère les âmes trop pleines de regrets. Alors je me lève, lentement, comme si la nuit elle-même pesait sur mes épaules. Mon verre est vide, ma poche aussi. Je jette quelques pièces sur la table, mais elles ne font qu’un bruit sourd, comme un écho lointain. Dehors, la nuit s’étire, indifférente. La brume danse sur les pavés humides, et les réverbères projettent des ombres déformées sur les façades. L’air sent le bois mouillé et le charbon, un parfum d’hiver qui s’attarde. J’enfonce mes mains dans les poches de ma redingote élimée et me laisse avaler par la rue. Les pavés brillent sous l’humidité, scintillent comme s’ils reten...

Dirty Work

  It was never supposed to get this complicated. The goal was pretty clear, with a plan that left no room for mistakes or last minute changes. She would summon a demon, he would help her get rid of her bully, and her high school life would finally be less of a nightmare. She got her ritual down to the tiniest of details, bought everything she would need, and started the meticulously crafted event. For someone that came from a lineage of witches, this was easy for her, almost natural. The low-grade demon was eager to serve her, and he did a perfect job, killing the jock and disposing of his body so that nobody would be able to find him, or pin the incident on her. The thing is, she forgot how clingy these creatures can get once they’ve done you a favour.  The demon refused to leave her side, waking up with her and following her to school, back home, out with friends and back in the confines of her own bed. He sat on her shoulder, his weight light yet insistent, whispering in he...
TRIGGER WARNING : SUICIDE, BODY DYSMORPHIA  ليلةَ أمس أصابني أرق شديد منعني من النوم حتى السادسة صباحاً ومن شدة بؤسي أني سمعت أصوات العصافير النشيطة قبل نومي، الثانية عشر ظهراً يرِنُّ المنبه للمرة المئة وأنا مُتظاهرٌ أني لا أريدُ سماعهُ، أنظرُ له بنصف عين ثم أعود إلى غفوتي، أخيراً أيقظني الجوع من السبات، نظرتُ إلى الخزانة لا يوجدُ أي لباسٍ مرتب، ألم أرتب خزانتي من قبل؟ نظرتُ إلى نفسي في المرآة، فشعرت ببعض القبح، ما هذه السمنة المفرطة؟ لماذا شكلي هكذا؟ تباً للجينات التي أحملها، الثانية بعد الظهر متوجهٌ إلى أقرب مطعم من أجل الإفطار، الثالثة بعد الظهر عدت إلى المنزل بعد جولة في شوارع المدينة شعرت فيها بالازدراء حيث كانت نظراتُ الناس لي غريبة، ومن شدة الانزعاج اخذت علبة السجائر بدأت بالتدخين بشكل مفرط، الخامسة عصراً، لدي إختبار في نهاية الأسبوع لكن الدروس كثيرة والأستاذ دائماً ما يطلب مني أن أحلق شعري المجعد، الدرسُ الأول عنوانهُ غريب، للأسف نسيت القهوة تغلي، هذه الحياة ليست لي، الخامسة وربع بعد تنظيف المكان من القهوة المحروقة، يطرق أبي الباب فتحتُ له أحضر لي بعض الطعام وأخب...