We writers have a kind of reclusive reputation, if you know what I mean. We're the tortured geniuses, the socially awkward, the misunderstood, the voices of reason in a world of increasing madness...
Ok, ok. In all truth, we may be all of those things or none of them. Writers are as diverse as the books you'll see lining the shelves of your local library or the witticisms you'll hear rendered poetically. What unites us is our passion for what we do. And while inspiration for our words may occasionally come from quaint dreams and musings, I find that most inspiration comes from two sources: exposing ourselves to the work of others and living our lives.
Most of us don't start off as writers after all. The Writerly Life is the one we live when we're being our truest selves, but we live in a world where that isn't always possible. Batman can't always be out righting the wrongs of a city in chaos. Sometimes he has to be Bruce Wayne, managing all of the affairs that a billionaire must manage (would that that particular problem were ours!) Perhaps there is a better example in Peter Parker, who must deal with the ups and downs of his teenage years when he isn't wearing his mask. What he is impacts his waking life and it is the same in most of us. But we must still live the lives that enable us to exist. Most of us put in long days at the office, feel the demands of domestic life, occasionally wish everyone would just leave us alone so we might get in touch with our own thoughts.
But this life that isn't the life we really want to be living, this life that we feel the need to escape from, it really is a source of great inspiration. And perhaps viewing it as such even makes it a better life. The people who break our hearts can be rendered devious villains. The unexpected storms of life can be fantasticized. We can create characters to bear the burdens we otherwise bear alone, and if we can deliver them through the onslaught of their circumstances, there's hope for us too, isn't there?
At this point, I imagine you're wanting some personal anecdote, some evidence that I have myself been capable of being inspired by my circumstances.
Let it suffice it to say that I fell in love with a boy, relocated to another part of the world for him, and was abandoned a few months later. I was once wounded that he saw so much to loathe in me, but upon reflection, I see such carefully veiled imperfections in him as might exist in a villain. Not your in-your-face, serving-the-forces-of-evil villain perhaps. But the devious, manipulative variety? Oh hell yes. I was deceived, wasn't I? Couldn't my audience be as well?
Think on your own lives. You've seen someone whose appearance made some kind of a lasting impression. Or you've lost someone you cherished deeply. You've loved and lost. Maybe you've even been fortunate enough to have loved and won. You've pondered the mysteries of life and filled in the blanks for yourself. You've envisioned other worlds, better ones you might escape ones or worse ones you might use to bolster your belief that your circumstances aren't so bad after all.
Take a look at the works of people who write what you write. Then take a step back and live your life. Follow your passion in your spare moments. Transform yourself through the works you create, and know that the life you had to lived in the meantime was the impetus for your deliverance.
