‘Inspiration is for amateurs’

This is one of those Mondays where the desire to write anything in this journal is just not there.

So began my first journal entry of the week. A journal entry I had no desire or motivation to write.

But I forged ahead. I pushed my pen across the notebook paper and scrawled:

So what do you do when you don’t want to write? (Or exercise, or practice your instrument, etc.) You push through and do it anyway. At least if you have a modicum of motivation, you do.

This seems to be a recurring struggle for me and my writing, this tension between my lazy self, who would rather not do the work, and my better self, who knows the result will be worth the effort. (This week, my better self is winning. I wrote three pages in my journal Monday, and–yay me!–continued to write at least one page in that notebook every morning this week.)

Ritual or routine?

I know this struggle is recurring because I have a record of it. While looking for a clean notebook to use for a different purpose–a commonplace book for jotting down quotes, notes, ideas and random thoughts–I discovered a journal from 2016. On the February 4 entry, which I titled “Ritual or Routine?” I wrote:

When does ritual turn into routine? When does the discipline of daily practice become drudgery? How do we keep the rituals of our lives fresh and meaningful?

These are my thoughts this morning as I think about writing, and the continuous practice of keeping a daily journal. There’s a quote in the 99u book that (a work colleague at the time) lent me that goes something like this: “Inspiration is for amateurs. The rest of us creatives rely on doing the work.”

I didn’t bother to record the name of the book, and the organization that once was 99u is now part of Adobe, so I can’t replicate the quotation verbatim. But a quick Google search revealed that the quote is most often attributed to Chuck Close, an American painter and photographer, who said:

“Inspiration is for amateurs. The rest of us just show up and get to work. If you wait around for the clouds to part and a bolt of lightning to strike you in the brain, you are not going to make an awful lot of work. All the best ideas come out of the process; they come out of the work itself.”

– Chuck Close (source)

Sticking to the process of regular writing has shown me time and again that the best ideas really do come out of the work itself. I have nothing against inspiration. In fact, a story always is born from the spark of an idea, but it won’t take form until I put in the work of writing. I don’t always know where the writing will take me, but if I trust the process, I know it will take me somewhere. I may end up with pages of worthless verbiage along the way, a lot of detours and dead ends, but usually there’s a glistening paragraph of value hidden within, like a vein of precious metal surrounded by rock. But if I don’t do the work, that paragraph will not emerge.

(Pardon the mixing of metaphors there. I started down a road toward discovery and ended up in a gold mine.)

A new mantra

No matter who said it, inspiration is for amateurs should be my mantra every time I feel like I don’t want to put in the work or adhere to the process of writing. Or every time I’m waiting for inspiration to strike.

What I discovered in 2016, as I wrote in that journal entry (and this is why it’s good to hold on to your earlier writings; yo9u may draw inspiration from your own words):

The more time I spend with this practice, the more I realize that the discipline of it will lead to better writing, clearer thinking and better results. But there are days–today could have been one–where the temptation to skip the practice is great. I thought about breaking the streak today. But I’m glad to be writing here instead.

Maybe you’re feeling stuck in your writing, too. Or whatever creative path you are on. If so, know that you are not alone, and remember: inspiration is for amateurs.

Having said all that, I know there are times when you just need to take a break. Even the best athletes take a break from training to give their bodies time to recuperate. There’s no shame in down time. Use it to refuel and replenish your reservoir of ideas. Read some books or short stories or poems. Watch some movies. Work in your garden. Even dust if you must. But know that the blank page, or black Word document, will be waiting for your return.

Image via Pexels.