Creativity and Spring Potholes

Pothole

My mind has been scrambled lately. It’s hard to pick one topic to write about. I think it’s a side effect of spring – the cold has loosened its grip, the snow is melting and running all over the heck everywhere and it’s affecting my brain. Spring fever? Perhaps.

I am inspired to work on my own writing projects, but other creative commitments need attention. I am organizing a writing contest for the first time. The entry deadline just passed, and we had a respectable amount of pieces submitted – over 75. Now to figure out the judging. How do you judge what’s “good” creativity? I developed a form to help the volunteers quantify their opinions. It will be interesting to see if it works or not. Part of me thinks it’s wrong to assign numbers to any kind of creative endeavor, but we shall see.

I also attended the debut of a friend’s poem that was made into a video as part of a local collaboration between poets and filmmakers. Seeing two creative cultures come together to make something new was overwhelming. I’d been part of a similar collaboration between poets and printmakers, but video is so much more ‘in your face’ and impactful. The results were moving, funny, frightening and heart-warming all at the same time. No wonder I can’t think straight.

Then I need to market creative work I’ve done in the past. I’m gearing up for the summer release of my new novel, “Plover Landing,” and the reprint of its prequel, “Eye of the Wolf.” My publisher does some marketing and distribution, but the bulk of it is up to us authors. Having basically no marketing budget requires creative thinking. I’m in the midst of distributing copies to a few people for their review blurbs and planning my book launch party. Making these efforts jibe with the spirit and story in the novel is fun, but it’s a task that takes away from new writing.

And I want to write. The words are starting to ooze out my pores like muddy water through the cracks of a pothole. I fear that if I don’t allow myself at least one day for this soon, something bad will happen. What does it feel like when a creative pothole overflows?

Writing this blog has relieved some of the pressure, but it’s not enough. I suppose this is a good problem to have, but distressing, nonetheless.

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