“Why should a sequence of words be anything but a pleasure?” —Gertrude Stein
Something New This Way Comes
For the past couple of months or so, I’ve been slowly—ever so slowly—learning about what seems to be the drama world’s equivalent of flash fiction: ten-minute plays.
While my first ten-minute play is mostly still in my head, I have put some preliminary notes on paper. Like with flash fiction (or any writing I do), I find it beneficial to take time to think about an idea—to let it percolate—before (and/or between) the actual acts of writing and/or revising.
But even though I haven’t actually written anything yet, I’m enjoying the challenge of such a different genre. I’m enjoying the newness and excitement of it—I get a rush of adrenaline just from thinking about it!
And that rush is just what I need.
Why Playwriting, Why Now?
My interest in playwriting actually goes back nearly forty years ago, to elementary school, when I wrote my first “plays” (I use the term loosely!). My general interest in drama emerged during that time period, too. I always loved acting and was involved in school productions throughout my preteen and teen years, even attending an acting camp in junior high. Then, a couple of years ago, I read Eugene Ionesco’s play Rhinoceros, and followed it up with several other Ionesco plays. In reading these plays, I felt the same surge of excitement I get when I read anything I love, and my immediate thought was I want to write something like this.
Combine this latent interest with encouragement and motivation I’ve received from others in my writing communities, some of whom are either established playwrights or at the early stages (no pun intended!) of playwriting, and I was spurred to action.
But there’s also another aspect to this new interest. As artists, I believe we need to regularly challenge ourselves in order to maintain creative momentum. We need to try something new, immerse ourselves in new art and/or art forms. Not only is creativity a “muscle” that needs to be worked and maintained to avoid atrophy, but sometimes we need to try something new—to step outside of our comfort zone(s)—simply for health and wellbeing. (And sanity.)
(There are actually all sorts of benefits to stepping outside of one’s comfort zone.)
Starting New, Again and Again
A recurring theme in my life is that of starting new, beginning again—and I’m sure I’m not the only one!
Sometimes I think of trying something new or starting fresh as “reinventing” myself, but that’s not really what it is. For me, it’s more about trying to become more of who I am and less of who I’m not.
As social beings, we are heavily affected by the time and space we live in—societal/cultural influences and whatnot. Add to that financial stress, stress in general, and other pressures that divert us from ourselves, and it can be easy to lose oneself as we live life in survival mode.
Unfortunately, I’ve found that being who I am (and less of who I’m not) becomes more difficult as I get older, as uncertainty hits harder and responsibilities become more immense. Encumbered, I lose myself over and over again, and then am frantic to reclaim myself, over and over again, to get back to the person I once was, all the while knowing that I’m not—cannot be—the person I once was, no matter how much I would like to be. Each moment changes a person. In each moment, we know something different, something new. We feel something different, something new.
And so here we are—literally starting new, again and again, in every single moment.
Looks Are Deceiving
Over the past few months, I’ve mentioned to several people how I’ve been in a bit of a writing slump. When I look at my submissions sheet and see that I only have a few stories out for submission, I lament what looks like regression. It’s not! And I know it’s not because I know that writing and publishing is more complicated than what is on a sheet of paper. But still.
The fact is that, on paper, 2024 has been something of a record year for me as far as publications go. But even while there is progress, there’s that feeling. The need for something more.
The bottom line: Who I am is less about what is visible (both to myself and others) and more about what I feel.
A Never-Ending Quest…
…for Newness
For me, it’s the feeling of limbo I dislike the most. I currently live in a place that doesn’t feel like home, so I’m always looking for ways to change this—what I might do, where I might go. It’s a kind of never-ending quest for something new, something different.
Amidst this limbo, writing and art are my only certainties. And because writing is the one aspect that I have some semblance of control over, I find that it’s where I turn when all else fails. So when I feel like I’m stagnating (even if, intellectually, I know it’s not true), I feel a sense of urgency to change it.
I think that people who create need to “reinvent” themselves every once in a while. This will mean different things to different people, of course, but for me, it means not stagnating in my work, which could mean trying a new genre, embarking on a different kind of project, taking a workshop, going on retreat, whatever. Branching out in some way, broadening horizons.
When I’m feeling stuck in my life, it’s generally because I’m not being challenged in the right way. Rest assured, there are plenty of challenges in my life, but few of them are the kind that bring me fulfillment, as most just heighten my stress.
But not writing. Writing is a pleasure. It’s also a heartache, a test, a necessity. For me, writing is purpose. It provides me with meaning.
To be sure, writing is hard work, but even as it can be difficult, I think most of us who write do it because we—ultimately—enjoy it.
…for a Challenge
What I especially love is that with writing (as with many things), there is always something new to learn, something to improve upon.
I recently saw a running meme that said, “Running is not about being better than someone else. It’s about being better than you used to be.” It is the same with writing. (I always seem to compare writing to running!)
“Being better than you used to be.” That’s the kind of challenge that thrills me!
So here I am, hoping that in a week, month, or year, I might be somewhere different. Yet I know that even if that particular aspect stays the same (since it’s somewhat out of my control), I will be different. My writing will be different. Because every moment is new. Every moment is different.
Prompt: Newness
Many years ago, I painstakingly took one of my poems and converted it to fiction, and then decided it worked better as a poem. Its second poetic life was very different from its first, and it remained that way until around 2018, when the poem became a story again, albeit a very different one than previously. Not yet fully realized, the piece is still looking for its new life, its “newness.” Currently a short story, I plan at some point to convert it into flash (or maybe even a ten-minute play…?). It’s not just humans that need to “reinvent” themselves—or re-find themselves—every once in a while. Art does, too.
The cool thing, though, is that, like life, art is fluid. We can constantly start fresh, start new. We can constantly “reinvent” ourselves and our stories. None of it has to be set in stone. That’s what keeps the creative energy popping; that’s what keeps the writing new!
My Challenge to You
Locate a piece of writing that you’ve set aside because you weren’t sure what to do with it. Reimagine it. Reinvent it. Try putting it in a completely different form. (Alternately, you can start a brand-new piece, focusing on a form different from what you usually write.)
If it’s nonfiction, add a supernatural element to make it obviously fiction.
If it’s a poem, could it be a flash piece? Maybe even a longer story?
Combine art forms and create a piece of erasure poetry from your work.
If you feel so compelled, incorporate the following words and/or constraints into your draft.
Optional prompt words: maroon, beckon, hover, machine, blanket, follower
Optional prompt constraints: Re-envision your piece as a two-paragraph 250-word (or less) story. Avoiding articles and conjunctions, pick out five words from the first paragraph and repeat those five words in the second paragraph (in any order you choose).
Comment below: What are some things you do to maintain your creative energy and inspiration? What are some new things you’ve tried recently (creatively or otherwise)?
Highly recommended are the one-act plays of Tennessee Williams..
This resonated with me on several levels—thank you. One thing that I have (finally) learned about creative energy and inspiration is that they are tied to vulnerability. Just as with forming deep connection with others, daring to bare something vulnerable creates space and energy for the genuine things to grow.
I’ve recently tried serializing a story that got away from me. Receiving feedback by episode has been helpful to see where it’s going—which means sharing work before I’m typically “ready.”