Chance favors the prepared observer. –Marcel Duchamp
One of the problems you’ll run into, if you haven’t already, is the “writer’s block” dilemma. The reason for last week’s assingnment, besides getting you outside your comfort zone, is because most of us fancy ourselves a certain “kind” of writer. I’m a poet. I don’t “do” nonfiction.
There’s nothing wrong with specialization. After all, you’ll probably get more out of your writing if your subject is one that you know and love. But sometimes you’ll feel tapped out, as though you’ve said about all you can say just then on a given subject, or you talk yourself out of writing on something because even though you know it, you know someone out there knows it better. There’s a lot to be said for just using whatever’s close at hand, whatever grabs you in the moment, and running with it.
In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly an expert on any of the things I’ve written about here; the point, though, is that I don’t let that stop me, and you probably shouldn’t either. Well, within reason. You can’t expect to be taken all that seriously if you’re a sous chef and you’re writing on neurosurgery. Just a guess on my part, mind you, but a pretty educated one at that.
So what to do? Simple. Stop taking the world, and what’s in it, for granted. Remember when you were a kid and the simplest things held the most possibility? Wow! A box! Cool! Remember that mindset, or re-create it. Try approaching things with that same sense of wonder, awe, and discovery. The tools are simple: pen, paper, senses. Use all of it, taking in overheard conversations, the tricks your eyes play on you, the little things you overhear or pass by on a day-to-day basis. At some point, it becomes a habit, until the things that were mundane take on new dimensions in being observed. Writer’s block becomes a lot easier to overcome when there’s literally no limit on what you might write.
This week’s assignment: Write at least three paragraphs a day, every day.