creativity

How I Find Creative Inspiration When Life Becomes Monotonous

Kate Sloan

I’ve been reading a lot of books and articles on songwriting lately as I dive back into it for my 2022 “A Song A Week” challenge, and there’s a pretty fundamental divide between people who think “writer’s block” is a bullshit excuse you give when you just don’t wanna sit and write, and people who think a lack of inspiration is a valid reason for not writing.

I fall on different sides of this debate depending on when you ask me, and what art form we’re talking about (I write nonfiction, fiction, poetry, and songs, all of which have somewhat different needs in terms of inspiration). But for the most part, I believe inspiration is something you can conjure, not necessarily something you have to wait around for, praying and pondering until it “strikes.” The important thing to know is: your life and thoughts aren’t always going to be rife with creative prompts, but that doesn’t mean other people’s lives and thoughts can’t inspire you.

This has been a vital lesson for me throughout my life, but especially when I was essentially trapped inside for extended periods, as with many Canadian winters as a freelancer (including this one, during a pandemic), or when I was so depressed and demotivated that my own life temporarily contained none of the passion and intrigue that would normally inspire me. It’s then that I have to be extra proactive about finding inspiration and incorporating it into my work.

Here are some methods I use, all of which may work better for some art forms than others, but all of which can always stir something inside me, something that might transform into a blog post or an essay or a poem or a song.

 

1. Put yourself in someone else’s shoes

This is so crucial. I’ve been doing this for a long time. When my own romantic life was so barren as a teen that I struggled to find any inspiration for songs, for example, I would watch romantic TV shows or read romantic fanfiction and write from the headspace of a beloved fictional character about their situation.

You can “mind-meld” with a character like this, or with a real person (e.g. “How does Ariana Grande feel about all the Pete Davidson memes popping up everywhere?”), or with a theoretical person (e.g. “How do I think 19th-century sea captains, 20th-century party strippers, or 21st-century high school kids might feel about this pandemic?”). In a way, I think this exercise is really about getting more in touch with your own thoughts through the lens of someone else’s.

 

2. Borrow someone else’s idea

Now, I am not advocating for plagiarism (I’m strongly against it, in fact), but rather for the creative process of incorporating a kernel from someone else’s creation into something of your own.

Sometimes, for example, I try to write new lyrics for a song I already know and love, replicating the rhythm and meter but changing all of the words and what the song is about – and once I have my lyrics, then I can make an entirely new melody for them. I might also use a famous quote as a jumping-off point for an essay (always attributed), write ruminations on topics other writers are better known for, or build on someone else’s argument (again, crediting them as appropriate).

We’re all standing on the shoulders of giants, as the old saying goes – and like the author Austin Kleon argues in his book Steal Like an Artist, repurposing bits and pieces of other people’s work into your own is a time-honored tradition and is actually fundamental to how art functions.

 

3. Work in someone else’s style

In high school I had some friends who were also songwriters. One of them, Kaiya, wrote meandering, esoteric folk-blues songs that I loved, but that were utterly different from my own style, which was plainspoken, quirky, and musical theatre-inspired. At one point, each of us challenged the other to write a song in the other person’s style. In some ways it was difficult – I couldn’t rely on any of my usual tricks or formulas, and had to dig deeper and really think about each and every choice – but in other ways it was easy, because I knew my friend’s musical style so well that I could almost hear her in my head, singing and strumming, showing me where to take the song next.

Still to this day, when I’m feeling uninspired, sometimes I’ll pick up a book by a writer with a distinctive style – anyone from British neurologist Oliver Sacks to hedonistic poetess Rachel Rabbit White – and flip through until I anchor their voice in my mind. And then I’ll start writing, on whatever topic I feel like tackling, channelling my writerly muse all the while. Often I end up making changes in the editing stage, bringing the piece back into the land of me-ness, but sometimes doing an “impression” of another writer is the best way for me to get the gears turning in the first place.

 

4. Revisit the past

Even if nothing much is going on in your life right now, there are always memories you can pull from. For example, I can dependably write about first dates and heartbreaks just about any time, because those memories are so vivid for me, even though it’s been years since either one of those things happened to me.

 

5. Just make stuff up

Look, as long as you’re not trying to pass off fiction as nonfiction, you can make up whatever the hell you want. Sometimes when I want to write about a sexual subject but don’t know how to approach it, I might write a fiction vignette or erotica story, featuring totally invented characters in the very situation I’m pondering. Likewise, when I feel utterly uninspired but want to write a song, I do what people like Regina Spektor do, and just write one about a made-up person’s life/brain/situation.

It might seem like it would be hard to access any real insight or poignancy or authenticity when doing this, but actually I find that creative inventions often act as a prism, helping me see inside my own life and thoughts more clearly, much in the same way that a tarot reading doesn’t necessarily “predict the future” but can help you reflect on your own patterns and associations.

 

Where do you pull inspiration from when you’re stuck?

 

This post was sponsored. As always, all writing and opinions are my own.

12 Days of Girly Juice 2021: 6 Journal Entries

Kate Sloan

Content note: There’s some depressing stuff in here about climate change, fascism, etc.

 

February 7th

A Spiritual Practice for Quarantine

wake up, take your meds
stretch & pee & check your phone
stretch & sigh, ignore your phone
brew some coffee, clear some cobwebs
set some goals & test your brain
watch the news, turn off the news
feel grateful you’re not on the news

don some ruby lipstick no one will see
take butt selfies in bed
suck cock every lazy morning
scribble notes to future selves
let haters tire themselves out
slither into slim-cut sweatpants
comb your hair for no one
read a book for pleasure
drink a boozy revelation
squint your eyes until you see
a pale unfocused vision
of the You you want to be

 

April 19th

Life all feels so absurd when you’re living through a global pandemic and a fresh wave of fascism and the end of the world due to climate change. I really don’t know how we are supposed to deal with it. There’s not even a frame of reference, a touchpoint in human history we can point to and learn from where we idiot’ed ourselves out of being able to even inhabit this planet anymore. It’s all new and a lot of it is bad.

I think one of the only things you can do to cope with all this is to do what the existentialists did and accept the liberating but terrifying meaninglessness of it all. I can’t affect humanity’s problems on a scale that would be effective, so I may as well feel pleasure and create joy where possible. I don’t mean it’s okay to be selfishly hedonistic all the time. I mean that we’d go nuts if we never allowed ourselves to be selfishly hedonistic. We’d be squandering the best parts of the very world and civilization our anxieties are trying to save.

 

May 29th

Lately I keep looking at real estate listings of 2- and 3-bedroom houses and condos in Toronto and New York and dreaming of what it would be like to furnish and decorate my own office in my own home. There would be lots of framed photos and art. An altar featuring citrine, blue topaz, and perfumed incense. Big white bookshelves displaying books, old journals, striking sex toys, and a rainbow of vintage typewriters. A smallish piano and my ukuleles and guitar. A luxuriant daybed for lounging and naps. A big plush armchair for reading in. Stacks of empty notebooks waiting to be filled with thoughts and ideas. Organized drawers containing my entire sex toy collection. A sex toy charging station à la Piph. Sophisticated coasters for having drinks at my desk. An array of fine pens and pencils. Tons of natural light, plus several lamps for atmosphere. Ahh, bliss.

 

June 9th

I bought a secondhand digital piano yesterday. Been wanting to get back into songwriting. It has been about 3 years since I’ve written a song. It’s just so weird because in high school I wrote multiple songs per month. It no longer feels like a skill I can access. I try playing and singing improvisationally but everything sounds terrible and doesn’t flow out of me the way it used to.

I think if I asked younger-me for advice on this, she would advise me to spend more time just idly messing around on my instrument(s); inspiration can’t show up if you’re not there to greet it. But I can’t shake the feeling that I was connected to some divine source of musical ingenuity and I no longer have a stable connection to wherever that came from.

I guess part of the reason for this is that my life now is fairly settled and content – I am married to the love of my life and our relationship is stable and healthy, so the main sources of interpersonal angst and sadness I used to pull songwriting inspiration from are just absent. I guess this means I have to carve out new ways of being a songwriter, ways that don’t rely on romantic drama. Writing from fictional characters’ perspectives is often helpful for this, I’ve found.

 

July 7th

Things to remember when I hate myself and feel like a failure:

  1. I will have had 2 books published by the time I turn 30.
  2. I am happily married to the love of my life, who is perfect for me on every dimension I can imagine.
  3. I live comfortably on the money I make as a self-employed person/freelancer in the sex media field. Dreamy.
  4. My work means a lot to people and they tell me so nearly every day.
  5. I am working through my traumas and flaws with a therapist, and I’m making good progress.
  6. I have a cozy home that I love and have put a lot of effort into making it feel as comfortable as possible.
  7. I achieve an amazing amount every single week for someone living with an invisible disability/chronic illness.
  8. I have made a lot of art that I think is good, and I will make a lot more.
  9. There is always more to learn, to see, to experience.
  10. Every single thing in life could change in an instant so the only thing to do is appreciate it when you have it.

 

July 26th

I’m emotional tonight, for a couple reasons. Firstly, today 11 copies of my first book showed up in the mail, and I got to hold it, and read it, and sniff it, and take selfies with it… I am truly so fucking proud of myself, and the pride feels unusually tangible to me today. It’s a really good book and I think people are going to like it.

The second emotional thing that happened is I went for drinks with T___, who I met several years ago because they were friends with L___ when I was dating him – and they told me that basically they never really liked him that much. They felt he was “a sad man who sucked” and didn’t treat his partners very well. (Uh, can confirm.)

My mind is honestly kinda blown. All this time I had believed what L___ said, which was that the two of them were very good friends, maybe even best friends – and I had felt that L___ must have some essential goodness or coolness because T___ thought he was cool, but in reality all this time they’ve seen him the same way I saw him on my most self-righteous and self-possessed days: as a sad, selfish, confused and confusing dude who wasn’t a very good boyfriend at all.

He was a person who frequently represented himself as perpetually right and good, as if his way of doing relationships was the best way or the only good way, and as if I was in the wrong for ever taking issue with anything he did. He was an extraordinarily bad boyfriend to me but framed himself as a generous and tolerant caretaker and protector.

Our relationship was this fraught mirage, always seeming like it had the potential to be so good and healthy and satisfying but never actually allowing that reality to materialize. He paid lip service daily to the kind of boyfriend he wanted to be, and wasn’t. He was a complete and total fuckboy, who would’ve been appalled to hear himself referred to as such. The only reason I stayed with him after he seriously hurt my feelings was that I believed deeply that he was desirable and special and “a catch” and that I was incredibly lucky to be with someone like him. That’s all it was. I mean, yeah, NRE makes idiots of us all, but I really think most of my poor decision-making in that relationship was directly related to me 1) assuming his inherent worth because he was a man who expressed an interest in me, and 2) thinking so poorly of myself that I couldn’t see how valuable and desirable I myself was. I didn’t know I deserved better, or that I was allowed to expect better, but I did and I was.

How Do Creativity & Curiosity Affect the Libido?

Kate Sloan

When you think about things you could do to boost your libido, you probably don’t immediately think of creative activities, like playing the guitar or painting a landscape. But I’m increasingly convinced that these types of pursuits are a factor in how high or low my sex drive is at any given time.

My friend Bex often describes curiosity as a contributor to his sexuality, in that when his life lacks things to be curious about, he feels less excited about life in general – including sex. It was difficult to organically stumble upon things to be curious about during the pandemic, since so many of us were confined to our homes or at least our routines. He’s finding that his libido is reawakening now that he’s able to be back out in the world, doing stuff, meeting people, having adventures, learning new things.

This makes total sense to me, and also reminds me of how I feel about creativity. In my youth, when I was a prolific songwriter, I often felt most inspired by the situations that made me feel the most sexually frustrated or excited – and, likewise, the feeling of being creatively inspired and “juiced up” often seemed to make it easier for me to get turned on, develop sexual attractions, and act on them.

I think part of the reason for this is that being creative makes me feel like I’m an attractive, interesting person, which gives me more confidence for flirting, sexting, etc. But also, I think creative pursuits remind me of how much fun it can be to work on a project from start to finish, to see it developing from nothing into something, to cobble together a meaningful piece of art with your own two hands. A good sexual encounter – or masturbation session – can feel like that too.

Emily and Amelia Nagoski explain in their terrific book Burnout that one of the ways to “complete the stress cycle” – i.e. temporarily rid your body of stress-induced neurochemicals so you can chill the fuck out – is to do something creative. I can think of several potential reasons this might be, but I think the main one is that doing creative activities often induces what’s called “flow state,” a positive psychological state associated with deep focus, a loss of self-consciousness, a feeling of agency and mastery, and the “merging of action and awareness.”

Several studies have found that experiencing flow state makes a person happier, not just in the moment but in their lives more generally. I can easily see how the relaxation and happiness you feel after a session of creative flow could also inspire arousal and desire, or could at least create conditions under which those things could more readily bloom. Flow state has also, incidentally, been widely compared to the “subspace” or “topspace” experienced by many kinky people during scenes. If you’ve ever felt on top of the world while spanking someone or being tied up or engaging in needle play or whatever it is that you do in kink, it’s quite possible you could access similar feelings through creative activities. (I mean, arguably kink itself is a creative activity, but you know what I mean!)

During the pandemic, I’ve been diving back into some artistic endeavors I’d let fall by the wayside, like playing piano and writing poetry – and it’s astonishing how much these activities affect my self-esteem, and thus my ability to feel desirable. I have such respect for the creative fields that it’s euphorically empowering to remind myself that I, too, have talents in those areas. Doing these things regularly also helps keep my stress level low (or as low as can reasonably be expected), because of the positive, calming impact of flow state. I can drift off into the pleasant fog of my focus for a while, just like I do in kink scenes, trusting that when I come back to earth, I’ll feel refreshed and relaxed.

The human brain is a mysterious lump of cells that eludes our attempts to document and categorize the infinite phenomena it can conjure. But I’m glad to have discovered that making time regularly for my creative endeavors is good for my stress levels, happiness levels, and – yes – libido.

 

Have you noticed a link between creativity and sexual desire in your own life?

What’s Your Creative Ritual?

Kate Sloan

Today I read an article about Stephin Merritt, the lead singer and songwriter of the Magnetic Fields – arguably one of the best songwriters of my generation – which had this to say about his creative process:

[Stephen is] a crazily prolific songwriter… The problem is that he can only write songs in bars. And not just any bar – it needs to be “one-third full of cranky old gay men gossiping over thumping disco music.” Plus he needs a glass of cognac, to be slowly sipped, and a corner with a light so he can see his notebook.

I was immediately captivated by this description. I knew Stephin liked to write in loud bars, but I didn’t know he only liked to write in loud bars – or that cognac factored into the equation.

What artists of various sorts like to do to stoke their creativity has long been a source of fascination to me. My own process is ever-evolving, in part based on what I read about other writers’ and creators’ processes. So today I thought I’d create a little survey, which you are free to duplicate on your own site if you’d like to answer these questions yourself. Here are my answers…

 

What’s your workspace like? I have an antique wooden desk that was rescued from the side of the road many years ago and has come with me to 3 different homes. It’s big enough for my computer, microphone, and headphones, plus all the various medications I take, a notebook and pen/pencil, and a black Museum of Sex mug containing all my writing implements.

Beverage of choice while working? During the day: a latte (I like a lot of different kinds, but a soy toffee nut latte from Starbucks is a common one lately) or a cup of tea. At night, when I occasionally also write: a dirty martini to help keep the words flowing without self-consciousness. I also try to continually drink water throughout the day, though I’m not always great at remembering to do this.

Favorite snack while working? Sometimes I do this thing where I order coffee and breakfast from Starbucks in the morning and throw in a slice of lemon loaf for later, which inevitably I suddenly remember exists around 3 p.m. and get extremely excited to eat. Aside from that – I’m a very snacky person but not organized/methodical enough to habitually keep snacks in stock, so these days I don’t snack much throughout the day even though I want to. If I ordered Mexican food last night and still have tortilla chips and guacamole left over, that’s my favorite mid-day snack.

Music of choice while working? Something instrumental and either peppy or dramatic. Most often I just hit shuffle on my “I’m a Writer” playlist. If there’s a particular mood I’m trying to embody in what I’m working on (e.g. fun, melancholy, energetic), I’ll put on music that makes me feel that way.

Favorite tools? My MacBook Air for nearly everything, and my iPad mini on bad pain/fatigue days. I journal in lined Moleskine notebooks with a Retro 51 Tornado pen. There’s also often a pink Poppin task pad and matching pink Palomino pencil next to me at my desk, for scribbled notes and to-do lists.

Favorite software? The plain ol’ Notes app for on-the-go note-taking and drafting. Scrivener for book-length projects. Evernote for some projects that require a lot of research, sources, and interviews. Google Docs/Drive as a backup compendium and for the vast majority of my non-blog writing (I love that it autosaves constantly).

Favorite places to work in your home? There are 3 options in my tiny apartment: bed, couch, and desk. Most often I pick bed, which I’m not proud of but is sometimes necessary as a result of chronic illness/pain. My building also has a rooftop patio where I did some book edits once and should probably write more often. Once in a while I stay over at my parents’, where I have a small desk (also rescued from the roadside, incidentally!) as well as their kitchen table or back yard to choose from.

Favorite places to work outside the home? I’m mostly relegated to my home right now ’cause coronavirus, but in normal times, I love writing at cafés (usually on my laptop) and bars (usually in a notebook) – men try to hit on me occasionally and there are a lot of distractions, but the overall boost in creativity, energy, and motivation is worth it for me. Sometimes, if I’m writing a piece that takes place at a particular location that’s accessible to me, I’ll go there to write so I can capture the details better. Also, oddly I get a lot of writing done in airports – maybe because I’m stuck there for a while and bored enough to want to work.

What times of day yield your best work? Honestly, any times when I’m not wracked by chronic illness symptoms. For me, that’s usually late afternoon, early evening, or very late at night. (Before I met my partner, anyway. Since meeting them, I’m typically on the phone with them til at least midnight so I haven’t had nearly as many of the obsessive wee-hours writing marathons as I often would in my youth.) I try to follow my natural impulses in this area and take advantage of any sudden “I feel like writing!!” whims, even if they happen at odd times.

Favorite work clothes? Anything comfy. Usually loungewear from MeUndies or the Gap. As I write this, I’m wearing my full-body black modal hooded onesie from MeUndies and it is truly ideal. Occasionally I put on a “real” outfit and some makeup, to make me feel more put-together and focused, but many days I can’t quite manage that and it usually works out okay anyway.

Start-of-workday rituals? Not as defined as I would prefer, mostly because I am very much not a morning person and I have to get up at 9 a.m. every weekday to do some morning tasks for my part-time social media job. Usually I just take my antidepressant, put on some music, and get started.

End-of-workday rituals? Close my laptop and physically walk away from it so I don’t feel tempted to just keep answering emails and drafting blog posts all evening. Wash all the dirty dishes in the sink – which may not seem creativity-related but is actually one of those boring, methodical tasks that can be oddly fertile soil for random creative thoughts. Make a cocktail and eat dinner while watching videos on YouTube or catching up on the articles in my RSS reader.

How do you handle distractions while you’re working? Not very well. When I’m doing a good job at this, usually I put my phone and computer on “do not disturb” (making sure to notify my partner and best friend if I plan on doing this for a long time, so they don’t worry about me) before I dive into a writing sesh. I also use a site blocker to keep myself off Twitter, and close my email app before starting a piece of writing.

Do you take breaks? What are they like? I used to be able to work for hours on end, but now that I’m plagued with daily pain and fatigue, I take a lot more breaks than I used to. Sometimes that just means a 20-minute lie-down between tasks to play a game on my phone or read a random weird Wikipedia article; other times it’s a full-on 3-hour nap, complete with eye mask, drawn shades, and soothing music. I’m trying to get better at listening to my body and doing what it asks of me.

How do you track your progress? My daily to-do list is kept in my Notes app, which my partner can access and keep an eye on (they’ll often send me a sweet congratulatory text when I get everything done). Other than that, I like looking at the full-month view in my Editorial Calendar plugin for WordPress; it gives me a sense of which blog slots have already been filled and which I still need to write content for. I don’t focus as much on word count as some other writers do, because most of the writing I do day-to-day is inherently unrestrictive in terms of word count. I guess looking at my income spreadsheet is also a way of tracking my progress!

How do you celebrate or cap off a completed project? My partner reads aloud to me, on our nighttime phone calls, any articles or blog posts that I wrote throughout the day. Hearing them out loud, and getting Matt’s feedback, helps me figure out what I might need to change before publication.

Do you have any superstitions about your work? Not exactly, but on deadline days I have been known to adorn myself with a whole lot of blue topaz jewelry because blue topaz is known as the writers’ crystal and is said to amplify your communicative powers. The effect may be placebo-based but there is an effect nonetheless, so I say, why the hell not?

What do you do when you’re creatively blocked? Go for a walk. Read writers I admire. Read generally. Write something in a different medium than my usual (e.g. fanfiction). Listen to podcasts. Take a day off, if possible, to just rest and do absolutely nothing (I get bored and remember why I enjoy writing). Look at the terms people are searching for on my site, or typing into Google before they stumble on my blog, to get a sense for what questions people need answered and what subjects stress them out. Talk to a friend on the phone.

Is there anything about your creative process that other people might think is “weird”? Possibly the weirdest thing is that I play Scrabble on my phone whenever I need to clear my brain and/or calm down. I felt validated in doing this when I learned that Angie Kim likes to play Jacks at the start of every writing session and whenever she’s stuck. There is something about playing a game – especially a game you’re good enough at that you don’t have to consciously think about your technique all that much – that can feel very calibrating and calming.

What aspects of your creative process do you hope to improve upon? After all these years of doing what I do, I feel like I’ve mostly got my own patterns and rhythms figured out, so I know how to optimize for them – but chronic illness has really thrown a wrench into that. Now I’m working on re-learning what works best for me in my new body and brain. I know I can; it’ll just take time!

What are some aspects of other people’s creative processes that you find inspiring or admirable? I mentioned Stephin Merritt early in this post and I still find his process fascinating. How do you write well – let alone write songs well – in a loud bar?! Every time I read about someone whose process is radically different from mine, it makes me want to try their method just to see how it would affect me. I also admire Esmé Wang‘s commitment to beginning each day by pulling tarot cards and journaling.

 

If you feel like filling out this survey on your own blog, or even just on Medium.com or somesuch, feel free to post a link in the comments!