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SOMETIMES ALL IT TAKES IS TIME

by

J. MANN


I have been writing poetry and nonfiction for almost a decade. In the darkest moments of my life, pen and paper were both my confessional and my punching-bag. I started writing in high-school, in an environment where creativity, if not encouraged, was not stifled. My writing improved through 4 years at university, and then stopped.

Particularly with poetry, but also to an extent with nonfiction, I was an organic writer. I had an idea, and I wrote. I never gave much thought to the process--poems and turns of phrase somehow arrived in my mind, and transferred themselves onto paper.

I have not written anything worth mentioning in more than 2 years. Straight from university, I landed in a job that completely stifled originality and creativity. I became an automaton, going through the motions to earn a salary. I turned into a not-nice person. The company was so oppressive that writing poetry, my only outlet, was lost to me. My non-fiction writing turned into sales blurb; even that skill was taken away from me and twisted into something ugly.

When I left the job in January 2002, after a year of hell, no-one around me could understand. I spent 4 months unemployed, and another 6-8 months effectively as a charity case. Now, 19 months later, I am still battling the demons I took away from that place.

I began to feel that I might be able to write again. Some experimental poems about writers block didn't amount to much, so I set them aside. Then, in October last year, I stumbled across a website which seemed to be exactly what I was looking for. This was a community of writers, helping each other out, discussing issues, and sharing knowledge.

The feeling in the community was that poetry and nonfiction are the poor cousins of "Real Writing," meaning fiction, specifically novels and short stories. Even more, there was a clear feeling that unless one writes fantasy novels, one cannot call oneself a "Real Writer."

Having lost the spark that I had for poetry and nonfiction, I decided to try fit in with their mold. I have always loved reading fantasy, and here was my chance to create my own. I had a few interesting ideas, that I could see would be great stories. Nothing worked. I could not find that magic that would turn a good idea in my head into a good story on paper. And for fear of the stigma, I couldn't turn back to poetry or nonfiction.

Factors which many people reading this essay will know about, as well as others which you might not, led me to leave that community. I go back there from time to time to read what is being posted, but not to offer any value. They don't want what I have to give anyway.

And now I find myself re-evaluating my writing. I have looked back and thought about what it is I want to write, and fantasy, in fact, fiction in general, is not it. I want to go back to my roots, to return to poetry and nonfiction. The realization of this has been enough that in the last week, I have been more positive about writing than I have been for years. This essay marks my return to nonfiction.

Far more important though, is the effect that the past 2 years have had on my approach. I have been rereading my poems, and remembering the moments that they "came" to me. That spark in my mind used to result in a poem, whole and finished, waiting to find its way onto paper.

I don't see those sparks anymore, but I do have ideas. It has taken me 2 years to realize that I can write poetry without that magical spark. That spark might return one day, but I am not its slave.

And that realization has already borne fruit. Apart from this essay, I already have a list of 7 poems I want to write. They won't be easy, and poetry used to be very easy for me, but I want to write them, and so I will.

It has taken me all this time to come back to my starting point. 2 years to realize that I need to change my approach, and rely less on inspiration. But the most important thing I have come to understand, is that I could not have come to this point any sooner.

Sometimes all it takes is time.


Copyright © 2003, J. Mann. All rights reserved.