Perfectionism is a curse in the creative soul. Raise your hand if you agree.
I am such a one afflicted by this curse. Perfectionism, the fear of producing anything less than what it could be rather than what it should be, is like an enormous shovel.
I see you (yes, you!) shaking your head, wondering what a shovel has to do with trying to be perfect in a chaotic world. Perfectionism digs and undermine’s one’s creativity, gauging a hole beneath our minds and making it much harder to climb over that writer’s block. Kind of, sort of, like a shovel. Maybe.
Professional writers don’t believe in writer’s block though, and I feel that I shouldn’t either. One technique that they use is to simply begin writing at random. They just open up a new Word document and force themselves to start typing without stopping. With every sentence down, no matter how meaningless or silly it is, they build a rung in the ladder out of that hole and over that block.
I’ve never tried this before, but I figure now’s as good a time as any since my grammar’s been agrarian lately. Normally, you’d never want to publish these random thoughts, but here I go all the same:
Ahem. This is the most delicious fork I’ve ever sucked on. Red potatoes deserve honey goodness. I’m cooking right now.
A recipe in my head. A recipe for disaster. Whoa! Just remembered a poem I wrote long ago called “A Recipe for Disaster”. / head reels. I’m going to look for it, and maybe post if it I’m lucky enough to find it.
Luck can be obtained through skill. Skill is acquired through hard work and practice, both of which are traits that I’d be lucky to have. Oh well.
Some people don’t like me. I do like a good cola every so often though.
Young men fear the passage of time. Old men fear passage. Middlemen fear smart entrepreneurs.
Companion cubes are far too short in supply. The world could use them like the world could use more well-intentioned entrepreneurs.
Carrots are good against potatoes. I think it’s a +4 bonus.
The Tazmanian Devil was a crazy, crazy dude. He died an early death due to the dislodging of his brain from his spine from an over-indulgent spin. But he lived. Boy, did he live.
The alarm brings brings brings me awake. I massacre the snooze button with furious palmation.
Dogs are better than cats. That’s all there is to it.
Drinking carbonated sugar-acid-water is probably not healthy. For the body. But my brain loves it. Mmmmm. Brains. Zombies drink Vanilla Coke. This is a free ad for Vanilla Coke, though I’m secretly hoping for royalties.
(A Minecraft Observation): Cliff-hopping sheep have evolved their wool to be especially bounciful. Tigger’s got nothin’ on them.
“The Empire is mine by right! I, by blood and strife and cunning, have taken this empire from my brother. I have conquered kingdoms and …. Yeah that won’t work. Fantasy writing will take a slower hand methinks. Prithee.
And that’s it. I tried my best to keep typing constantly and avoid thinking too much and I was mostly successful. I paused a bit in some parts and returned afterward to correct some mistyping, but all in all it took maybe five minutes.
I think it helped with my writer’s block. I’ll keep you posted on that, but I believe I can recommend this method of ladder building.