The Imagination Hiatus and the Quirky Creative Process

Recently, I find myself mourning a loss. Please do not fear. No one has passed away, I have not misplaced a family heirloom nor have I experienced any other such cause for misery per se but I do find myself missing the days where I would sit around with my imagination as my company and just write. For those who have either not known me long or have not known me with any deep degree of friendly intimacy, I have long wanted to be a great novelist. Ok...maybe not great in the canonical sense but at least noteworthy in the Young Adult genre... I have several works that I have begun but I never seem to either find the time to finish them or I abandon them for being "not quite good enough".

Confession: I have not put pen to paper as an aspiring novelist in nearly two years.

That is a long time!

It is strange to imagine that I have allowed myself such a hiatus from an activity that I find so amazingly therapeutic. This is not to say that I have been completely denying myself any creative outlets. I am a crafter and in some ways my crafting allows me to express myself but there are so many more ways that the written word serves me. I am able to work out internal issues and frustrations through writing  and I am certain that, for many of these issues, my crafting, in comparison, will never serve as an adequate outlet.

Confession: I can barely remember a time when I did not love to write.

In fact, I am a bit quirky when it comes to creative writing. I tend, in my deepest imaginative thoughts, to whisper through the scenario or possible dialogues for my works (most people would construe this as one talking to oneself...). When I was in grade school, probably around second grade, I learned that this was apparently a strange thing to do in public. I sat behind a boy, I believe his name was Brad, and the class was having a "free write" time. I, deep in thought, was whispering to myself and Brad turned around to face me. His eyes were wide with horror. I remember those eyes well. There is no doubt in my mind that he thought I was a psychopath. A day or two later, the classroom was rearranged. I always wondered in the back of my mind if Brad requested not to sit by the "weirdo" anymore or if the teacher had been planning the move anyway. In any case, I never sat less than two to three desks away from Brad for the rest of the year.

Fast forward to high school: I never really gave up on this quirk. I tried really hard not to do this talk-to-myself-whisper thing in public anymore but when I was around people with whom I was really comfortable, I would often do it without realizing it. My family usually just ignored it. I mean for them, it is/was something that they were used to. Cue the High School Sweetheart. I would slip sometimes and do this in front of him and he would inquire about my strange whisperings. I would either:

A.) Deny I was doing it

B.) Say it was nothing

Either of these answers would, of course, start a fight (we had a very nurturing, healthy, and trust-filled relationship...). But let's expose the true problem: I was uncomfortable confronting the idea that I was engaging in quirky act which, ever since second grade, I believed to be absolutely non-normative behavior. Basically, little Brad's reaction and the subsequent (albeit probably coincidental) class room rearrangement scarred me.

Well...now that my blog post about missing writing has become a blog post about missing writing and my bizarre creative process...I should probably stop typing before you, just like little Brad, believe that I am a total weirdo.

Picking Up the Pages

Where to begin?

Perhaps I should start by introducing myself through a mini and self directed interview.

Marilyn The Interviewer: Please state your name for the record.

Marilyn The Interviewee: Marilyn

Interviewer: Why have you created this blog. Goodness knows the last thing the internet needs is another blog!

Interviewee: I am sadly aware that I am adding to an endless variety of not-so-important bloggers. However, I need an outlet. Even if no one reads it... I'll know it exists and somehow that is enough for me.

Interviewer: What is it that you plan on sharing through this blog?

Interviewee: I suppose it depends on the day. Some days it might be about my latest music obsession, others about my latest products in my Etsy shop, a book I just read for the 2nd time, or even a TV show that I am hesitant to admit that I have just binge-watched (thanks a lot Netflix...we seriously need to break up!).

Interviewer: So basically you are going to be entirely random... Ok...Well...Why don't you explain the significance of your Blog's title..."Picking Up the Pages".

Interviewee: Sure. To be honest, I wasn't entirely sure what to call my blog. I mean I, like every other blogger, wanted something both witty, relevant, and interesting. I had a hard time finding something to mesh with such high standards. I threw around the idea of something related to my Etsy shop, which is called The Nerd Boutique (No seriously...it is really called The Nerd Boutique and you should probably check it out...) but I did not want to corner myself into blogging only about my shop. I am so much more than my Etsy hobby...you know? Anyway...I am a huge lover of books. I have quite a large collection and I am also working on a PhD in Film & Literature. I even use books as one of my main mediums for my Etsy creations. In fact my idea to create this blog came while I was crafting and while I was stewing over what the heck I should call this little space in the big bad world wide web, I happened to drop several pages that I had just torn out of a Harry Potter book (yes...you read that correctly..."torn out of a Harry Potter book"...seriously...look at my Etsy shop already...it will make perfect sense to you). As I leaned over and picked up the pages...it just seemed to be the perfect fit. I am constantly picking up pages. My crafting is ridiculously messy. Plus there is that love of and something of an academic obligation to books. It just seemed fitting.

Interviewer: Interesting indeed. Well, that is about all of the time we have for today. Thank you for answering all of these questions.

Interviewee: Of course. I was happy to do it. Thank you for having me.

I think that interviewing myself is one of the strangest things I have ever done. On that note...I bid you adieu...At least for now...