On Becoming An Author
I have a skeletal outline for my next book. It will take place in different centuries on the different continents where my ancestors lived. I took a class called Writing with the Dead with Rachel Jamison Webster and Daniel Foor, where in ritual we connected with a couple of our ancestral lines. To my surprise, I connected with the matrilineal line of my Dutch ancestors and not my Indonesian ones.
I always liked to write (letters, stories, journaling, even research papers), but in school I was best at math. Only recently have I dared to attempt creative writing. While grateful for my academic background of fact finding, analysis, and organization, I am learning to let go and have faith in the creative process. I have set the intention to explore the culture and history of my Dutch and Indonesian ancestors and the intersection of the two, showing both trauma and resilience. Bringing spaciousness to my exploration, I’m trusting the inspirations that arise. I’m learning to be gentler and give the process more space.
While researching, I’m following a felt sense that is co-creative with something greater than myself. Many artists, musicians, poets, etc. speak to the process of surrendering, the need for spontaneity, and how their work is not their own but a co-creation with divine. I listened to Icons of Rock by Jenny Boyd; a recently published book adapted from of her dissertation on the creative process. Jenny interviewed 75 musicians, most whom she knew personally, as she was at the heart of the rock ‘n’ roll scene since the 60s. This book reinforced my sense of the connection between creativity and mysticism. Many of the musicians Jenny Boyd interviewed speak to letting go, handing it over to a higher power, and say things like, “it’s not me but coming through me,” or “I’m actually not in control of the process.”
I have been greatly inspired by the creative process of The Beatles. Reading about and watching the circuitous process of how they create has facilitated my process. In the eight-hour Get Back documentary , I witnessed The Beatles’ messy process. They come to the studio with bits of songs with unfinished or temporary lyrics that, not in any systematic way, are then developed. Lyrics are changed slightly or completely as something better pops up while they rehearse. Some songs have been around for a while and others come to them the night before. Much of the time they are jamming old Beatle tunes or those recorded by others. There’s a lot of joking/messing around that looks more teenagers goofing off than grownups at work. Is that why they call it playing music? While watching the lead up to the rooftop performance I asked myself, ‘Where is the craftsmanship? Where is the discipline? How does a great Beatle song ever come out of that chaos?’ Having been together from childhood, they had a bond that fostered lightness, openness, and trust.
Recently, I listened to James Daunt, CEO of Barnes & Noble, interviewing Paul McCartney regarding the book Paul McCartney The Lyrics . Daunt asks Paul about his process of writing songs. Does he set a structure for writing? Paul replied that he has instruments around readily available, and when the inspiration comes, he creates.
I have not always trusted, believed in, or followed my own creative juices. But now, like Paul, I receive inspirations whenever they happen to arrive. If I have no way to record them, I will remain with the inspiration, image, the sensate feel, and the emotion(s), and trust that their essence will remain. I don’t worry about details, because those will come forth from the essence. These inspirations arrive in different forms. For instance, while in the shower I suddenly knew that the story needed to include healers. When at a museum looking at a 40-foot tapestry of ships coming into harbor, I got the felt sense of what that may have been like to stand on a harbor at that time in history. I then understood that one of the settings will be near a harbor. While reading a Dutch history book, I was moved by a story of a person who may become part of my story. While biking along a dike where the houses and farms on one side were lower than the lake on the other side, I knew somehow the felt-sense of that danger must be in the story. Some ideas may be dropped while others reinforced through synchronicities or subsequent inspirations.
As I said in the previous article on My Writing Process, the recent experience with Thomas Hübl has been an incentive for writing about ancestral and collective trauma. I am also unleashing the artist within who loved to write but was good at math. I will continue to post my process and progress. I hope this will inform and inspire other budding authors.
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