I have another confession to make.
When I get stuck for what to write next, whether that’s due to a sudden lack of confidence in my story, not quite knowing where my scene is going, or finding something about what I’ve created unsatisfactory, I close all my tabs, pull out my phone, open Google Keep and begin anthropomorphizing.
To me, the sort of absurdity that is the ticket to “all systems go” is both surreal and dream-like. A donkey sitting on the table drinking coffee when you walk in for breakfast, your furniture having a conversation about you behind your back, the grass complaining about your gardening technique.
As for why this works, I think there are a few reasons.
Firstly, it lowers the stakes. The scenarios are bizarre and have nothing to do with something more serious I’m working on.
Secondly, it’s fun! Sometimes, what I most need to remember is that I’m writing for the joy of it. That is, after all, why many of us become writers. Writing absurd scenes puts me in a more playful mindset. I like to think of it as an exercise to strengthen my writing muscles. It loosens me up and gets me into the right frame of mind.
Finally, it gets me writing and that, above all else is the most important thing. There’s nothing worse than opening up a blank document only to find I’ve been watching my cursor blink at me for so long my heart rate is beginning to sync with it. Thanks for that software developers, now where’s the off switch?
There’s one other thing I love about this exercise.
It forces me to take notice.
How else would I know that my coffee table is a bit of a snob and spends a lot of time complaining about how it should be in a far nicer house surrounded by better furniture? I’ll tell you how: it’s because of the wood it’s made from—a well polished oak (I imagine) sanded down clean so that it looks expensive. It’s because I put a lot of my miscellaneous hobbies on top of it and this really seems to annoy it. A paint by numbers canvas I pick over every now and then while a detective show rolls, a roll of paper towels and carpet cleaner in case I need to clean cat vomit, coasters that really ought to be thrown they’re so tea stained, a catalogue from Fire Mountain Gems for when I decide I need to revert back to my jewelry-making hobby, and the latest, a pile of rigid envelopes along with 100 “thank you and please review” Etsy cards to slip into the envelopes and send along with my stickers when orders are placed.
Suffice to say, my table is hard to see beneath it all and because it’s such a pretty little thing, it does get rather stroppy. My TV on the other hand has a bit of a hoarse voice seeing as it’s always talking. It likes all the things I put on coffee table (it’s not longer THE coffee table) as it gets to watch something for once itself. My bookshelf in the room is a little dreamy, the couch is the peacemaker, and the carpet always nervous someone will hear the furniture talking. It’s always attempting to muffle coffee table.
I’d never have known this about my furniture had I not sat down to write it. And boy am I grateful. It’s a lot more fun. I also really do pay more attention to things in the room now. I had to after all to assign personality.
And yes, maybe I’m insane but hey, whatever gets me writing. I’m off to chat with my tea now.
