Monthly Archives: July 2012
We are often unaware of how powerful our thoughts can be.
We feel something, get in a mood, dwell on a thought that creates negative emotions and don’t know how to get ourselves out of it.
We aren’t taught growing up that thoughts are actually what create our emotions, drive our beliefs and determine how we experience life. We usually think life just happens to us (and often it seems to) – and that we’re left to just react to it.
What if we could change how we experience our lives? What if we could have the power to actually create our lives?
Most of us follow a path that has been laid out by culture, society, our family’s expectations, circumstances. And we admire those few who seem to find the strength to rise up and do something different. Break the pattern. Break the mold. They seem to drive their lives instead of letting life drive them.
How do they do it? They’re not smarter, better, luckier or have more advantages. So what makes them different?
They chose to focus on what they do want and not on how things are now. They start to think new and different thoughts. Thoughts they haven’t thought before. Thoughts no one around them may have had or been allowed to have. Those thoughts lead to new possibilities as they re-imagine what is possible for them.
They start to dwell on what is possible. Open to something bigger, better, more rewarding in life. And as they focus on thinking thoughts that support that possibility, they start taking steps towards it. One step leads to another and soon they are creating a new experience. One that they want.
This is how you change your life. This is how you achieve your dreams.
Not by wishing and then convincing yourself why it’s not possible.
By thinking. By choosing to think new thoughts. And by choosing to let go of limiting thoughts.
What are limiting thoughts?
Those thoughts that keep you where you are, where you’ve always been and that keep you in the status quo. Thoughts that rise from the limit of beliefs the people around you in your upbringing held. Beliefs about what is possible and what’s not.
We often see a belief as something stronger than us. A belief is just a thought that you keep thinking. And you can change what you think.
How? By paying attention to the thoughts that are creating your life now.
- Begin by taking time to reflect on what it is you are thinking, about an area of your life you’d like to change. Ask yourself: what thoughts do I have about this? Write down a list of every thought you have about that topic. All the reasons you can or can’t change. What you heard as a child about it. What your neighborhood tends to think. What your religion says about it.
- Examine each item on your list and start asking questions. Ask yourself: how do I know this thought is true? What if it wasn’t true for me? Where did this thought come from? Is it what I really believe or what I was raised to believe? And ultimately, does this thought still serve me and the life I want to have?
- Make a list of new thoughts. Write down what you would like to experience. What would you need to believe to experience it? Start asking: “what if” for all things positive. Instead of immediately assuming it can’t happen or you can’t do it, start counter-attacking those thoughts with: what if I could? what if it happened easily? what if it was like ‘this’ [fill in your desired experience]?
- Pay attention to how each thought makes you feel. Does the thought make you feel empowered or powerless? Does it make you feel lighter or heavier? Thoughts that feel good and create a sense of positive feelings are ones that are life-giving to you.
- Start focusing on what you do want to experience, not on what you don’t. Imagine it just as you would like it to be. Vision it for five minutes or so each day. Pay attention to those limiting thoughts and when they come up, say “thank you, but no thank you” to them and then choose to replace the thought with one that supports what you do want.
- Take action. Every little step toward what you do want, matters. Pay attention to your guidance, how the Universe leads, the opportunities that occur. But don’t wait for the Universe to perform a miracle for you. You are an active participant in creating your life. You wouldn’t expect a story to appear on your screen without you typing it, would you? You wouldn’t expect a painting to appear on the canvas without you painting it? Your life, your dreams are no different. Dreams don’t come true without you. Align your thoughts to what you desire, keep a steady eye on the destination, move into action and trust that your steps will be led.
The old thoughts are going to keep raising their heads because they want to keep you safe and resist change. Keep working through them. Know that it’s normal to experience resistance and those old thought patterns are strong because they’ve been practiced so much and are easy to think. Don’t give up. Keep replacing them with thoughts that support what you want to experience. Keep choosing your new thoughts and beliefs.
Do not dwell on how things are now or the fact that you are not experiencing your desired state right now. Thoughts vibrate as energy and they attract like energy to them. That’s why when we think one discouraging thought, pretty soon we find ourselves in a bad mood and thinking more thoughts that make us feel even worse. And that’s also why it’s so hard to get out of a bad mood. We’ve “pulled in” thought after thought that supports the energy of the first thought. Breaking the mood takes stopping the thought pattern and choosing a different one.
Does this process take some effort? Yes. But far less energy than it takes to keep feeling stuck and discouraged and powerless.
Does this process work on trauma? Trauma can alter the way the brain experiences emotion and thought-processes. But much of traditional therapy approaches focus on treating the patient in a dis-empowered state and do not connect the traumatized person to their own inner power and ability to create. Trauma is powerful and must be respected, yes. But I believe the human spirit is yet more powerful. I believe nothing can be lost and perhaps everything be gained by examining what it is we think and, therefore believe, and choosing to change our perspective to one that allows us to experience a life that feels better.
Shifting thought patterns can open up new worlds of possibility and new states of being.
Learn more about shifting your thoughts in Mike Dooley’s life-changing book Infinite Possibilities.
We can be taught craft and technique. What is less talked about is the artistic decisions we have to make and how to learn to trust ourselves enough to make them about our work.
What do we need within ourselves to make sound artistic judgments about how we create and shape our work? Where do we learn to trust our own opinion more than anyone else’s as we assume the role of “artist”?
Let’s start at the beginning.
Own Your Role as Artist
What is an artist? One who brings forth into existence something for the first time. As such, we are responsible for what it is we bring forth and because we are the First Trustee of that work, we are ultimately the only one who can decide what form the work will take. Until you assume and own your role as “artist” in whatever media and format you work in, you will not have the foundation within to make the decisions you need to make.
When do you stop being a student of art or an amateur and claim your role as artist? Some people feel that they must sell their work before they can claim that role. I disagree. Commerce equates a certain level of professionalism perhaps, but more so, it just backs up the artist’s decision to get serious about being an artist. Money does not make you an artist. It makes you a paid artist. But you most likely won’t offer your art for sale until you fully claim your role as artist. So if you are waiting for someone to buy your work or discover you, you’re waiting for the wrong thing. You have to claim the role first, then you’ll make your art available for commerce.
You own the role of artist usually when you are actively producing work, when you find that creating art is when you feel most alive and when you can’t imagine your life without it. It becomes an identity that feels natural and right within, because it simply is who you are.
So, the first step to being able to make artistic decisions is to fully own your role as an artist/creator/conduit.
Now that you know who you are, what’s next?
Own the Necessity to Be Different
Artists who are just starting out on their journey often begin by emulating an artist they admire. There’s also pressure from industry to conform and create “what sells”. Yet, the truest work and the work that resonates most deeply with audiences is work that is lit by the artist’s spark. Work that is fresh, authentic, pure and different.
Studying those who have crafted work we admire is a natural learning path. But it should only be used to learn craft and technique. Not voice, not subject matter, not style. The world needs something that only we can give. It needs us to birth what has never been brought forth before. It needs our particular insight, our care, our nurturing, our vision. And it needs us to be strong enough to stand up and believe in ourselves.
The industry – which is commerce – wants what sells because it reduces risk. What delights the industry though is when an artist answers to his or her own vision and offers something that has never been seen before.
Do Not Base Your Artistic Decisions Solely on What the Industry Says they Want
Every art industry has established formulae and protocol that do a couple of things: 1) define professional standards and 2) make it easier to repeat the process.
What artists are called to do is be mindful of that and then forget it. Artists can get too caught up in the desires of the industry, in worrying about the details of format, in making sure that their work “fits in” – that we forget that by definition we are supposed to be bringing forth something new and emergent.
If we all bring forth work that cautiously fits current form, how will we evolve art?
There is, of course, a fine line to walk. To reach an audience today, we typically have to engage with the industries who have the power and resources to present our work. We have to meet professional standards. We can do this and still be original. We can conform to format and tell original stories. But we can also be bold enough and willing to risk bringing forth something entirely original. This is innovation.
We expect and require innovation in technology, medicine, manufacturing – we need it just as desperately in art.
So, while we have to know what the industry wants and expects, we also have to know that they need us to be innovative and original. We need to know what part of our art – such as the formatting of a script – needs to be honored because dozens of other creative professionals will use it to do their work – and what parts to make fresh.
Be Willing to Listen to Your Intuition
Artists are by nature perceptive, intuitive and to some degree psychic. We deal with realms that other people are not receptive to. Characters that exist in totality, visions, feeling color as emotion, sensing a form within a block of solid material, we connect to a realm that is real and quite often channels itself through us. We are conduits between the seen and unseen and chosen to relate to and with each world.
Which is why, in the end, we alone can make the necessary decisions about the shape and structure of our work. We alone know the Story, the Characters, the Image, the Form. Because we alone are the ones the work has chosen to communicate itself through.
Emergent artists often doubt themselves because they’re still learning craft and technique. Don’t confuse questions about technique with questions about the art itself. What’s the difference? Other artists can teach you craft, give insight on technique – but no one can teach you the art. It comes to you from the art realm. To receive insight on a particular work, you have to listen to your intuition and the guidance from the work itself. No one can hear that but you.
Be Careful with Feedback
Asking for feedback may or may not be beneficial. What we should ask ourselves before we ask for feedback is: what are we really looking for?
Do we want professional insight on craft and technique? Or are we looking for someone to validate us? Do we want to gauge how our work is resonating with a sample audience? Or are we feeling insecure? Do we want ideas for how to improve a particular element of our work? Or do we want someone to tell us that we’re doing a good job? What is the purpose of the feedback?
We’re all sensitive and prone to insecurity because we deal with what hasn’t been brought forth before. We are continually creating something new. And it’s so easy to doubt ourselves. So easy to want someone else to assume the responsibility of determining if we are bringing forth the work as it is meant to be done. We need to remember that we can’t allow ourselves to pass off our responsibility as the Artist to others’ feedback.
We can get beneficial feedback on technique, format, craft – but it will be limited to what has been done before. If we have a truly emergent work – one that creates a new category – then there is little feedback that can be useful – except for the preliminary reactions people have to it. But even then, is that beneficial? And to what?
Which leads me to ask: what is the purpose of art?
Is it to please audiences, agents and industries or is it to simply bring forth the work?
Does it ultimately matter what others think or is it enough just to be the conduit, to channel the work, to birth it into the world and have it exist.
Why does art want to flow into our world? What is its reason for being? Every artist has a different perception. We each need to find an answer that resonates.
Trust Your Judgment
It’s not easy to live up to our responsibility as the First Trustee of our work. It’s a lot of responsibility. And we’re all prone to doubting ourselves, to feeling we’re not good enough, to questioning our ability to do it well enough. No matter how long you’ve been an artist or how much prior “success” you’ve had. Each new work is a new work. And it comes as a whole new experience.
It helps to remember that if we were not meant to bring forth a particular work, it wouldn’t have chosen us. The work has faith in us. Of all the artists in the world it could have chosen to express itself through, it chose us. That means that we must have the ability to give it what it needs, to have the exact perception it needs us to have to give it its place in the world. And no one can reverse its decision. When you’re chosen, you’re chosen.
It takes a leap of faith and saying no to fear to make the final decisions on a work of art. If you’ve listened to the work, made decisions that resonated with what you feel to be true to the work, blocked out voices that do not have the best interests of the work or you in mind, and sense that you’ve given it everything you can to survive on its own – you’ll feel more comfortable deciding it’s done. But you may never feel absolutely certain.
Creating art is a process and one that evolves as we evolve – which means we could literally continue to improve and change a work over time as we change. All art has the potential to never be done. Be aware that this tendency exists.
Art is always at risk of us not having the courage to own our role as artist and make the decisions it needs us to make.
There are far too many unfinished and nearly finished works of art languishing in our world.
Let’s not let our work be one of them.
While technology evolves faster than any of us can keep pace with – it has yet to truly change the way we read and absorb fiction. E-books and e-readers have made reading more convenient, but they still follow the format of traditional books. You just turn the pages electronically.
That is, until now.
Hollywood screenwriter Mark Staufer is in the process of changing the fiction experience – to, get this, eliminate the necessity for the “suspension of disbelief.” He’s written The Numinous Place (TNP) a first-person account of protagonist, Henry Meat, a man on a spiritual quest to discover secrets of the afterlife. What TNP does is not just tell you a narrative, it tells it through multi-media – which means along with reading text, you hear audio, watch video, read articles, newspaper reports, webpages, see photographs, listen in on phone calls, view security camera footage, and get in on lucid dreaming instructions to journey through the story with Henry.
Fascinating, isn’t it? That’s what I thought. This has the potential to change not only how we experience fiction, but how we write it. Creating an immersive experience that allows readers to enter the fictional world as deeply as possible. Bridging an elusive gap between a “character’s world” and a “reader’s world.”
I asked Mark to tell us more about TNP and his creative journey. He’s currently in the midst of a busy rewrite season on scripts and is crowdfunding TNP through Kickstarter. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to be part of the birth of the next generation of storytelling. Please check out The Numinous Place.
As a screenwriter, Mark, you’ve worked with some of Hollywood’s top talent. What inspired you to write TNP? How did this concept present itself to you?
The creative genesis of The Numinous Place has been something more akin to discovering and investigating an entire world than the usual process of story building. It’s a concept that has revealed itself to me little by little over the last decade. Slowly at first, and then more rapidly after I began to write it down three years ago.
TNP is referred to as the “world’s first multidimensional work of fiction.” You are introducing a new way to “experience” fiction. What can the audience/reader expect?
Storytelling has been around since before fire, and although the same principles have always applied, we’ve used different methods to bring our characters to life. With The Numinous Place I’m using nearly every method of storytelling to create the storyworld. The first-person narrative is linear, but because it’s told “as real” it’s enhanced with the inclusion of authentic newspaper and magazine articles, webpages, news reports, photographs, phone-calls, security camera footage, a comic and lucid dreaming instruction. It allows us to create a really believable and creepy universe that I believe people will react to on a visceral level.
What was the intention/vision behind developing this project?
The intention is to create as an authentic experience as possible. After spending so much time with these characters before giving them life “on the page” to me they’re actually living, breathing individuals. Telling story this way is the closest I’ll ever come to reproducing this interior world for other people.
Tell us about the Story. It’s about a man on a spiritual quest….??
I started with this premise: How would the world change, if science proved incontrovertibly that there was a hell. In other words, how would people act if they knew for a fact everything they did in this life absolutely had an effect on them for all eternity. Then I had to work out a couple of minor points, like how did science discover that the afterlife exists, and (the biggie) what is the afterlife like?
What was the writing process like for you? What has it been like to live/interact with the characters for so long?
I’m a slow writer, and by that I mean, I spend such a long time gestating my storyworld and characters. I laugh to myself about The Numinous Place turning me into a “method writer” in terms of having to experience a similar journey to the main character. I think we’re all on a spiritual quest from the day we’re born, it doesn’t just begin when we announce it to ourselves or to the world. But, I’ve had to increase the intensity and velocity of mine to keep up with Henry Meat’s because TNP doesn’t operate in “real time.” I should add that the actual “writing” is not fun at all. It’s never been fun for me. You have to use a cattle-prod to get me to the desk and then threaten me with time on a Judas Cradle if I leave before bleeding a few words out an hour. And then I spend weeks rearranging the words into some sort of order that makes sense. It’s agony. The words enjoy causing me as much pain as possible.
Do you envision that TNP will change how e-books/aps present “fiction experiences”?
I think all modes of storytelling will survive, but technology has given us more opportunities to explore narrative. I’m just surprised it’s taken so long for writers and publishers to embrace multimedia. It’s like the digital revolution came along and bypassed books completely.
The public and investors can be a bit skeptical about something that they haven’t experienced before. What would you say to them?
I’d ask them to step outside yourself and watch how you experience information and entertainment for a few hours. Or, if you’re still a newspaper/6 o’clock news kinda person, observe a teenager for an evening as they multitask and interact with technology and society and merge with the supermind. I never underestimate the sophistication and intelligence of my audience/target—I figure if I make it fascinating, worthwhile and honest, they’ll take the journey.
You are in the process of crowdfunding on Kickstarter. What will the funds be used for? What’s the next step?
I’m really excited by the whole concept of crowdsourcing. It puts creators and inventors directly in touch with their audience. We have quite a lot of production, design, art and tech building to do to get us launch-ready, and all the funds from Kickstarter will be used to make the app, e-book and online elements sing to each other.
Thanks, Mark, for taking a moment to share this with us. What an exciting journey for a writer to be on!
You can follow Mark Staufer on Twitter at @markstaufer.
He points his finger to the stars.
The sky ripples.
He remembers his name.
All is still.
I keep this poem on my desk because it reminds me to reconnect to my power as a being of Source Energy. It reminds me that intention and action, coupled with belief, is how I create my experiences in this Universe. It reminds me of the magic we all possess and the comfort that comes from being still, and knowing.
As artists, we need this reminder. As humans, we need this reminder.
Especially when we come upon situations and circumstances that throw powerlessness in our face. When we are witnessing, writing, photographing, filming scenes of suffering, loss, pain and cruelty. It’s so easy to lose sight of who we are, to get lost in the powerlessness that loss presents.
We are helpless, many times, to alleviate suffering. We are powerless to change seemingly impossible circumstances. Devastation. Political upheaval. Disease. The quiet snap of a heart breaking.
We stand by with cameras, pens, laptops, words, images and feel our chests suck in, tighten around the unanswerable questions. We feel the pain, the anger, the fury at wanting to have something to fight against and the sickening realization that we’re impotent to even raise an arm against it. Anger gives way to sadness. Sadness to depression. Depression to questions about giving up.
What if we’re asking the wrong questions?
What if instead of wondering how and why, the real question is: what can I do to remind a soul, even just one soul, of its power as Source Energy?
Because that is what we need when we’re brokenhearted. To remember who we are. And that can be the most powerful thing we can do for someone else.
We can’t always help change circumstances. We can help change thoughts. Gently, sometimes blatantly, remind people of their power to see things in a different perspective.
Thoughts are our most powerful expression of Source Energy. And reconnecting to thoughts that lead us to remember who we are is where healing begins.
As artists, as humans, we deal with the big questions in life. We deal with suffering and loss. We witness and we craft and we infuse our artistic work with these questions. Sometimes the questions themselves are the work. Sometimes it’s where the questions lead that is the work.
But no matter what, we need to remember who we are and let that ultimately come through to our audiences.
I recently had a conversation with another writer and we agreed that when the writing flows, it’s more like channeling than writing. We also talked about how writers don’t really “create” anything, but rather are a conduit for stories that already exist…somewhere. Characters, we’ve both learned, exist in their own realm and one of our biggest jobs is to listen to them. They know their story.
If you’re not a writer, this will all seem very far-fetched and probably cause you to wonder if writers are a bit out of our minds.
Well, maybe we are. But maybe that’s also why we are writers. Because we can sense, hear and “channel” the stories that non-writers read, watch, are touched by and remember – sometimes for centuries.
Writers are the First Trustee of the Story. We meet the characters first. We develop the trust relationship with them that allows us to capture and develop their story in the most powerful way possible. We then have to translate that relationship to actors, directors and an entire crew of creative professionals who will do much of their work based on various aspects of the characters and story.
Being first in this process is an honor. One we shouldn’t take lightly. And it takes a certain amount of intuitive sensitivity, open-mindedness and a willingness to invest time, emotions and thought to nurture the “writer-character” relationship. It also takes patience, humility and a willingness to let yourself be changed by the process.
Here are some thoughts to help nurture your relationship with your characters:
You are Chosen
I believe that Stories choose their writers. And you can feel it in your spirit, right? You know when a story is something meant for you. So arm yourself with the belief that you were chosen to write the story and that no one else can take your place in this process. Another writer can work on the story, but she’ll write it as her story. Only you can bring yourself to the story. Which leads me to the next point.
You Bring Yourself to the Story, for a Reason
The stories that choose you, do so for a reason. Maybe they were preordained in a former life. Maybe they just sense that you have the right sensitivity to their subject matter. Maybe they flow out of your own spiritual experience. Whatever the reason, the stories that find you do so because they believe you are the right person to listen to their story, understand them and express it to the world. It is because of something special about you – and this covers assigned stories, too – (you don’t think you just got that assignment by chance, do you?) – you are an integral part of the process for what you bring to the story. When you start to wonder ‘who am I to write this?’ remember that the story and characters have faith in you.
At the Same Time, it’s Not Your Story
On the flip side, it’s not your story. It doesn’t belong to you. You can’t own it. The story belongs to the characters. And you need to respect that. That means you treat the story and the characters with respect. You protect it. You don’t let what’s sacred to the characters or story get pummeled out of it (to the degree you can control it). You guard what is essential to their nature and you let them guide the process. You are a conduit, a channel, a connection between the realm of Story and human understanding.
Let the Characters Lead
Many writers swear by their process of creating detailed character bios, interviewing each character with a long bullet list of questions. I don’t know about you, but I sure wouldn’t like to have someone sit down and interrogate me – particularly about painful or sensitive subjects and every detail of what makes me, me.
You can’t just make stuff up about a character either. Not a real one anyway (and by real, I mean one that will ring true to the human spirit because you were sensitive enough to let the character reveal him or herself to you in a meaningful, organic way.) Characters need to trust you, remember? You have to treat them with respect and trust them, too. Don’t interrogate.
Listen and keep listening. Ask for more. Listen at every draft and keep listening all the way through. It’s all built on trust and whether or not a character feels safe enough to reveal something that puts him or her in a vulnerable position. Be strong for your characters and be gentle, too. Let them and their stories affect you. You are not only the First Trustee, but you are also the First Audience. Let their story move you emotionally. Let yourself be the first one the Story impacts. Let it resonate in you.
Story is Revealed, Not Created
If you make up a story, the audience will know it’s made up. The human spirit can sense authenticity. If you allow the story to reveal itself to you, it will touch people in ways that you never imagined. Story is revealed. Layer by layer. Many writers swear by outlines. I find that while I generally have an idea of how a story ends, the details of the story are revealed as I write them. Later, after the first draft (when much of what is sacred has been revealed), outlining can help in shaping the story structure.
To me, if a writer knows the story well enough to outline it before he or she has interacted with the characters, I highly suspect it’s being made up. In these cases, either the writer has already spent considerable time listening to the characters and has a good grasp of what their story and nature is – or she’s trying to “force” a story. Don’t force. Listen and write it down.
Be Ready to Be a Parent, Counselor, Guide, Coach and Collaborator
Characters are troubled people. People in pain, wounded, lost, seeking their way to well-being and wholeness. You will need to be a nurturing parent, guide, friend, coach, counselor and someone they feel confident enough to trust with their dark secrets. You’re going to have to champion them on, encourage them, listen, know what part of their backstory not to share with the world, understand their fears, know when to push them to go deeper, know when to back off, and collaborate with them to get the story told, on paper, on film, in a way that connects to the audience. It’s not always going to be an easy process or an easy relationship to carry.
All of this comes out of two things: your ultimate belief that their story is meant to be shared and your commitment to going the long-haul with your characters.
Collaborate with your characters. You have a full cast of character-spirits who will eventually be represented by actors. See your lead characters as collaborators in the creative process. Discuss with them how to shape the story. Recently in a script, I knew we needed another antagonistic force. I discussed it with the lead characters. They agreed. We decided the antagonist should come in the form of an environmental group. You know, protesters, marching around with signs, right? (no offense, environmentalists). Well, guess what? The environmentalists showed up as a rough-cut biker gang. Much “scarier” than any of us had anticipated. But it was the edge the story needed. And as the story has been revised, the lead biker character has deepened to reveal a far more dangerous side of himself. Just what we needed for some well-placed conflict. The biker gang is now a key part of the story. It always had been, we just hadn’t known it.
Know What You Can Craft, and What You Can’t
As the First Trustee, you step into the role of writer and you also step into the First Director’s role. First, in that you are shaping the pre-film. You are responsible for giving the story everything it needs to survive on its own and be strong enough to survive the collaborative process to come. You must make decisions that shape the story.
You must make decisions for the story while including the lead characters in the process. Seeking feedback is important. But be careful to guard what you know is sacred to the characters and to the essence of the story. Too many outside voices influencing the story will result in a story that loses its magic. Guard against wanting to be a “great” writer at the risk of losing the magic of the story. To hold on to the magic, you need to own your role as the final decision-maker. Consult with trusted sources, consult with the characters, take what fits and enhances the story, but don’t lose sight of the core story or the core nature of the characters.
Let feedback push you to dig deeper, let it push you to push your characters to dig deeper. But remember, it’s the Story that matters – not your ego as a writer. Every story is different and needs its own space to develop. Honor that space.
You can craft a story and change it until it no longer is the story you started out with. You need to know the spine of the story and the nature of your characters to ensure you don’t lose their Story in the process. Art is art because of the artist. Remember that you are the artist.
Believe that There is a Purpose
Why do we write stories? For an audience, right? You can say that all you want, but writers write because we feel most alive and spiritually connected to Source when we are writing. I don’t know a writer who would stop writing even if he or she knew their work would never sell. We write because it is who we are. Channelers. Conduits. Because we have the ability to be a First Audience. Because of how every story we are given shapes and changes us, too. It’s thrilling, it’s adventurous. It’s challenging and it’s meaningful. There is a purpose for it, for being that connection between Story Realm and the human consciousness.
Don’t Worry, You’re Not Insane
Writers are not insane. Like many artists, we have a unique connection to the Spirit World, to realms that many people are not sensitive to. Like psychics, we can sense and intuit things about Story and Characters that others do not “read.” But that doesn’t make us crazy. And we shouldn’t be ashamed amongst ourselves to admit that this is simply part of how we work.
It’s a beautiful gift and responsibility to be Storytellers. I believe all art, music and writing comes from a Higher Source. We are surrounded by the beauty of nature that we cannot explain, is it so hard to believe that those who are called to be artists have an ability to tap into that same Source? Characters in a Story are no different than the Notes in a Symphony. They are given to the artist, shaped into a powerful form by the artist and gifted to the an audience.
Even if that audience is just the artist himself.