On Fluidity in the Creative Process

My creative process is young.

Most of the time, I get an idea for a piece stuck in my head and kick it around a while. I’ll think on it, go about my life, and come back to it from a different angle. I know it has potential if the idea follows me around long enough. Usually, I’ll work out the first sentence or so in my mind before I sit down to write anything. Sometimes it’s a couple words that I focus on, sometimes a whole paragraph. I think about the words while driving. I think about the words while talking to someone about an unrelated matter. I think about the words while I’m teaching class. While I’m taking class.

Ideally, I like to meditate before I write, but this is not something that’s always possible. If I’m at home, I’ll burn sage, read a passage from the Tao Te Ching, and lay flat on my back with my palms open. I prefer the lying-down meditation to sitting or walking. I’ve read a bunch of books about meditation and practiced many styles, and this is the one that works best for me. It took a while for me to get there.

I like to squeeze the writing moment for all it’s worth. I write in large bursts, and I like it that way. I don’t do a little at a time. I’m an extreme person, always have been. This area is no different. Kerouac’s philosophy of “spontaneous prose” is fascinating to me. I’ve never written 50,000 words in a sitting while on large doses of speed, but I don’t think it’s a bad approach. Unfortunately, I don’t have the luxury of experimenting in that way. I’ve worn out my welcome in the drug department.

So, I create a mood and I proceed to exhaust every bit of energy out that mood as I can. I purge myself onto the page. I don’t really like the word “purge,” however. It implies I have something bad to rid myself of. But I guess a lot of times I do. At least “purge” sounds better than “ejaculate,” the other descriptive word that comes to mind, even though the invocation of orgasm is more positive. Writing is much closer to a purging for me, an evacuation of thoughts. The process doesn’t always feel good as a rule, and I’m not always satisfied when it’s done.

I’m forcing myself to write with greater frequency, which means all these little steps I’ve outlined become less feasible. For instance, I did none of this before writing this piece right now. This is a good thing. I can’t expect conditions to be perfect—or even good—all the time. I do what I can to mitigate anxiety and I write. I get as much on the page as possible, and I work it out later. But the spirit of the moment is always paramount.

My creative process is idealistic.      

Jonny Rawson is an MFA student in creative writing at Florida Atlantic University, where he’s working on a memoir about addiction. He’s from New Jersey, which he actually considers an asset. You can check