What's your creative process?
on creativity, streamlining your workflow, and shit-I think my prefrontal cortex just developed.
*This week’s substack is kindly sponsored by Sublime, you might know them from Sari’s Substack here, but they also have a platform designed to create a searchable archive of what you’ve seen and loved on the internet; so whether you’re reading newsletters or see inspo images, you can easily save parts to your catalogue so they’re never lost. This is my first ever Substack partnership and I’m so happy it is with a brand I believe in. You can get 20% off their pro plan with the code EMILIE. Learn more about Sublime here »
song of the week: All my friends by LCD Soundsystem
Shrivelled, slumped, sapped, are all words that slime around my brain as someone asks me how I stay motivated to write. They want to know my creative process - how do I tell them I don’t have one? Swallowing back feelings of fraudulence and fear, I tell them exactly that. I tell them about the blur of my May time burnout that produced a first draft of a novel, this newsletter, my full-time job and blue-light burnt irises. It’s not that I’ve not wanted a proper routine, it’s just they never seem to stick with me. Instead I’m left chasing the small hours left of an evening or starting countless notes apps sentences on the morning train.
I’m reminded often of the routines of the writers before me. Kerouac’s prayers and candle lit writing sessions, Hemingway who famously wrote standing up, Murakami’s 10km 4am swims; all of these long and elaborate creative processes that only seem accessible to those with time. I don’t have enough time. At least that’s what I tell myself. My days are cut cleanly into promises to other people and being human. I have to work everyday from 9am-5:30pm. I have to get eight hours of sleep, so that takes away 11pm until 7am. I have to see my friends at least twice a week. I have to do laundry. I have to get enough exercise. I have to make three meals a day. I have to clean up after those meals. I have to hoover. I have to phone my Mum. I have to pee. I have to text my Sister back. I have to return that parcel that’s been sat in the corner of my room. I have to. I have to. I have to.
Guilt slips into me as I realise I’m not focusing on writing as much as I should. If I’m not careful it becomes something I see like homework or essays. Like looming deadlines of university work that’s always about to be due, I remember 7pm on Sundays are coming fast and I haven’t written a single word all week. If I ever want to be a great writer, I’d need a better creative process. At least so I could answer well when someone asks.
Though, as I’m reminded of university deadlines, I think of my Dad. I once told him I had an essay due in a few days that I hadn’t even started.
“But, I bet you’ve been thinking about it.” He said, “so by the time, you sit down to write it, you’ve already done all of the thinking.”
He turned out to be right, by the time I sat down to write, I did actually know what to write. I think of my Maths teacher that said in your GCSE exam, if you can’t think of an answer, come back to the question later. Your brain will be subconsciously chipping away at it. I think life, not just writing is a lot like that too.
They say in a good relationship, foreplay should start again as soon as you’ve- well, finished, in the form of treating your partner with love and respect and thoughtfulness. And, I think writing is the same. As soon as I’ve finished writing a substack or a piece of fiction, the creative process starts again not just when I’m physically writing. My creative process is the in between breaths of living, it’s the small moments that aren’t recreatable because they’re uniquely mine. It’s not writing 10,000 words at 5am or a cold plunge that sparks creativity but trying to live a life worth writing about.
I feel it the most when I’m travelling in an Uber back from seeing Miles Kane at Roundhouse. LCD Soundsystem playing in my ears and North London still buzzing despite it being the late hours or actually maybe early hours of Saturday. Nothing makes me fall in love with London more than moments like this. Travelling down Walworth road I’m reminded of memories spent laughing there and late night conversations near Elephant & Castle. I realise it’s these experiences that are the most important part of my writing process.
Instead of feeling guilty for not having a rigid routine, I’m trying to make my process work for me. I’m going to keep being inspired by strangers in smoking areas, scrolling on Pinterest and listening to music. With Sublime, this can easily slip into being a part of my creative process when I’m online too. If I see something on the internet that inspires me as I usually do, I can bookmark it and come back to it later. How often I see beautiful things that inspire me but like coming into a room and forgetting what you came in for, that beautiful thing is lost in the endless pool of a world online. Using Sublime makes my time online intentional and using my code Emilie, you can get 20% off their pro plan.
Sign up here to the Sublime app.
-Shit, I think my prefrontal cortex just developed.
Ah I love Sublime too!! The canvas is so fun. It makes me feel like a detective in a murder mystery show, moving things around and making connections haha!