Category Archives: creativity

creativity, Novels, Older readers, Writing

Older readers. Who are they? Where are they?What do they want to read?

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Older readers. Who are they?

olderreaders
photo from AgeUK

Older readers are beginning to have their message heard but I hope the folks in the picture above are in a book club. I can’t think of any other reason why you’d sit around a table sharing favourite gems from fiction you’ve enjoyed with such a wide grin on your face.

Correction. I can actually imagine several reasons. Here’s one:

Maybe the book is erotica and, instead of reminiscing about the days when they could complete the sexual gymnastics described in Chapter Five, they’ve all decided to slip upstairs at the nursing home, swap rooms and give it a go.

Sorry, I get sarcastic when the subject of older readers comes up. Thankfully since my last post on the subject: Gran Lit. Are you serious? there’s been a shift in publishers’ thinking. I’m not claiming any credit for that. I’m just one of many voices including the knowledgeable and experienced members of the Books for Older Readers Facebook page. Here’s a link BFOR. There’s a website too  www.booksforolderreaders.co.uk  established in October 2017 to promote books (mainly fiction) with older protagonists or themes which tend to appeal to readers in mid-life or beyond.

Older readers. Do they count?

older reader Stephen King
Stephen King reading Lee Child

They surely do. There are a lot of us. And publishers are taking notice. I’m glad it’s happening but it depends on how you define old. In a current competition from Harper Collins HQ division authors over 40 yrs. old are invited to submit unpublished work where the main character is also over 40. Over 40? They call that OLD? Heavens to Betsy, they still haven’t got it right.

Look here, you publishers. 18% of the UK population is OVER 65. In 2019 the total population is estimated at 66, 937,197 so roughly 11 and a half million of us fit this older reader bracket. If you want to count older as being from age 40 you’re looking at a much higher number.

Older readers. Where are they?

older readers live in Blackpool
Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside

According to a 2019 survey the top ten towns and cities where the average age of the population is over 40 are as follows alphabetically: Barnsley, Birkenhead, Blackpool, Bournemouth, Mansfield, Southend-on-Sea, Sunderland, Swansea, Wakefield and Worthing.  At an average age of just over 43, Blackpool is the place with the largest percentage of older people.

Now, let me tell you, people DO NOT go to Blackpool for a quiet spell of rest and relaxation. I believe it’s reasonable to say that Blackpool still ranks as the UK’s number one getaway for a dirty weekend. It has night clubs and casinos, break-your-neck rides at the Pleasure Beach and, let’s not forget, Blackpool Tower where all the hip-swivelling contestants aim to be in Strictly Come Dancing every year. Cruise the bars along the promenade this summer and I bet you it ain’t spring chickens under those kiss-me-quick hats.

Older readers. What do they read?

If you Google what do older people read? here’s what you get.

older readers support
Are older readers anxious?

It’s interesting that once you add the word older, the algorithms assume you’re looking for support with ageing problems. I found Reading interests and needs of older people – based on a survey dated 1973. There doesn’t seem to be anything more recent.

In a section  called ‘Books older people can read’ the Age UK website recommends A Spool of Blue Thread by Anne Tyler, one of my favourite authors. I approve of their choice but not of their title. What do they mean by ‘Can‘ read? Are they saying we can’t read books by younger writers?

In a 2012 study the university of Leicester asked why older people struggle to read fine print. They came to the conclusion that older people struggle with fine detail and prefer slightly blurred text????

I really don’t get the blurred thing. Larger print – yes. But blurred?

And so to Amazon. Dearie me. If you search the great Zon for books for the elderly they’ll suggest colouring books. Lots of fine details in those things, folks. If you search books for older readers Amazon assumes you mean older children and up pops Horrid Henry. If you search books with older characters Amazon can’t cope. It gets completely confused and offers Peppa Pig.

According to the website Next Avenue-where grown-ups keep growing older readers(female) still want to read romance and, apparently, there’s a growing demand from Boomers for erotica ebooks. I imagine they wouldn’t want the paperback hanging around the house for all to see but Next Avenue’s findings lend some validation to my imagined scenario in the nursing home. Cheesy grin.

Older readers. So what do they want?
what book do you want
from oubebreaker

I posted the following questions on my Celia Micklefield FB author page. I also made a nuisance of myself asking friends and members of local groups I belong to.

Have your reading tastes changed since you were young?

Does it matter that there isn’t a genre for older readers?

Some said their tastes had broadened and they now read the kinds of books that didn’t interest them when they were younger. Non fiction and self-help books featured in this wider taste. However, they still read what they have always enjoyed be it, crime, mystery, horror, sic-fi, fantasy etc. They didn’t think growing older had had any effect on their choices.

Some older readers said they enjoyed re-reading classics and old favourites. This got me thinking and, yes, I would love to read The Thornbirds again.

Almost all reported they didn’t think it necessary to have a separate genre for older readers. They can decide if a book is right for their taste by the blurb, they said, or by recommendation from friends. They feel they already have enough reminders they’re getting on in years without there being special bookshelves for older readers.

So it looks like we’re back to choosing by genre what you read whatever your age.

Choosing by genre
older readers genre
what’s your fancy?

I’ve always had a problem with genre. I enjoy reading books with multiple threads, time slips so you can discover what happened in a character’s past especially when they don’t know it themselves, a strong plot and settings that make you feel you’re walking the streets in the book’s backdrop.  Realistic dialogue appropriate for each character is a must and I don’t care if it’s English or U.S. spelling as long as it’s right for the mood and setting. I particularly enjoy characters with problems to solve. Throw in a hint of mystery and I’m on Chapter Three already!

You can find all of the above in a Saga, Sci-Fi, Mystery, Crime, Romance etc. etc. So, for me at least, genre is not the number one factor affecting my choice of book to read. If the first few paragraphs draw me in I’m reaching for my bank card.

The purpose of books?
purpose of books
I love books that make me think

I’m 70 now. Jeez, how did that happen? I don’t live in any of the Top Ten older population towns but in my corner of Norfolk near the east coast of England, I bet we’d make the Top Twenty. I don’t subscribe to the apparent interest in erotica but I did read 50 Shades out of curiosity. After a very short time my practical/dark humour head switched into gear and I wondered where you could possibly find a twenty-one year old virgin these days. Moreover, how she could walk and sit down comfortably after such frequent ravaging for her first sexual encounters beggars belief.

But, what do I know? I’m not a huge best-seller like Erika Leonard. She’s 56, you know. I wonder if she’s been to Blackpool?

The purpose of the books I choose will vary according to how I’m feeling and what my current needs are:escapism, entertainment, wanderlust, educational and so on. Sometimes all I want is an easy read I can pick up and put down as and when. At other times I want to devote my whole day to another author’s creation. That’s the underpinning need for variety in my nature, something that hasn’t changed since I learned to read.

My fiction for older readers

As I love reading a wide variety of kinds of novels I suppose it’s no surprise I enjoy writing them too. All my work is suitable for the older reader and not necessarily just for women.

Arse(d) Ends, inspired by words ending in the letters  a.r.s.e. and Queer as Folk are collections of short (and not so short) stories, some darkly humorous, some outright quirky. They’ll make you smile or shiver!

Patterns of Our Lives is a saga from 1935 to 2009. Family secrets from World War Two surface generations later. You might need a box of tissues with this one.

Trobairitz the Storyteller is general/literary fiction set in southern France where I used to live. With hints of mystery and romance my contemporary female troubadour entertains long haul drivers at an overnight truck stop by telling them a story.

The Sandman and Mrs Carter is a psychological mystery/drama. Mrs Wendy Carter never speaks for herself. Five characters tell her story from their point of view. There’s a mystery voice too, partly revealed at the end leaving readers with some thinking to do.

Non-fiction

I should mention People Who Hurt too. It’s my only non-fiction title. Being an older woman didn’t protect me from getting into a toxic relationship when I was in my fifties. People Who Hurt is part memoir and part informational. I know it’s helped others and I’m happy to offer it free on KU. Here’s a link if you’d like to read a sample.

All my books feature older characters with problems to solve. Here’s a link to my Amazon author page

UK version

USA version

You can also find my work in the English language sections across Europe and beyond.

If you’re an older reader and would like to share your thoughts take a look at the BFOR Facebook page.

books for older readers Facebook page
see you on Facebook!

Many thanks to Books For Older Readers for allowing me this slot on their Blog Blitz this month. Don’t forget to subscribe to my mailing list if you’d like news of upcoming offers. Leave a few words in the comments box too. I love to hear from other readers/authors.

Till next time,

 

creativity, Inspirations, Writing

Variety is necessary. But nothing in excess, please.

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Variety is the spice of life.

I’m not on my own. Most people like variety in their lives. We get bored, don’t we, doing the same things over and again? Who would want to eat the same meal day after day?  Would you want to read the same book or watch the same film for eternity? Wouldn’t that be like being stuck in your personal Groundhog Day?

No, we wouldn’t like that at all. We enjoy some change in our lives.

variety spices up your life
spice up your life with some variety

In fact, the experts tell us that following on from the core basic necessities of life variety is one of the  six human needs. Apparently we need:

The Six Human Needs

Certainty – the comfort of predictability. A feeling of being safe and secure.

Significance – a feeling of achievement and being respected and needed.

Variety – surprise, entertainment, the novelty of a challenge, excitement.

Connection/Love – warmth, desire, togetherness

Growth – learning, strengthening and developing ourselves

Contribution – giving to others, serving

I hope I’m ticking the boxes in a positive way but it seems to me that when it comes to variety you can have too much of a good thing.

Too much of a good thing

In our overfed Western society we don’t have to eat the same meal everyday. There is such an embarrassment of choice on the supermarket shelves. Do we really need all this stuff? Isn’t this over-abundance of choice one of the reasons we have so much obesity today?

variety in the supermarket
too much choice?

Here in the UK we talk about the weather. A lot. Usually the weather is changeable and mostly we’re prepared for it. Often you’ll hear us longing for a week in the sun.  But look what this year brought.

no weather variety
we’re having a heatwave

Who knew, when we were living with the Beast from the East during one of the harshest winters ever recorded, that this summer it would be hotter in East Anglia than in Majorca?

Be careful what you wish for! Months without our English rain has left parched fields. Lawns? Forget it. Farmers  worry about having enough winter feed for their livestock. Some areas are on hosepipe bans.

what happened to our English green fields?

Drying reservoirs  echo what happened in the summer of 1976.

what happens after months of no rain
Learning from nature

So here’s how we can learn from nature’s lessons.

We have to accept change because change(variety) is absolutely necessary.  Sun and rain are vital. So are light and darkness. We need variety in our foodstuffs to stay healthy. And, according to the six human needs we need change and variety to feel more fulfilled and satisfied with our lives.

This is why I enjoy writing in different genres. I don’t want to confine myself to writing within a certain type of book just because it’s easier to find its place on the bookshelves. There’s excitement in the novelty of writing for different audiences.

But, just so I can tick the predictability box with my writing you can be certain that all my stories will feature people with problems to solve. I may choose a humorous treatment to tell the tale or a darker, psychological angle may be more appropriate. There will be love or the lack of it, respect or cruelty, darkness and light in order for my characters to grow.

Just like real life.

Till next time . . .

creativity, Norfolk

Aesthetic.

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What is aesthetically beautiful country?

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/aesthetic/

The WordPress daily post is always a challenge but I don’t often find time to write on the chosen theme. Today, however, we’re on the same page. I’ve been considering writing about where I live now.

I have long-held opinions about what I consider aesthetically beautiful scenery. It involves water, mountains and blue skies.

Well, here in Norfolk there are no mountains. But there’s plenty of water and sometimes there are also blue skies.

the aesthetic beauty of Norfolk
January Broad

I started out feeling cold on this Sunday afternoon walk around the Broad but soon had to peel off the top layer. Some Norfolk Broads came about as a result of peat diggings in medieval times but others, like this one in my photograph were chalk excavations. Rising sea levels completed the job. You’d never know it, but the fine city of Norwich is just behind those trees.

The Norfolk Broads are a popular English tourist attraction. Thousands of people come in summer to spend their vacation time on the water, stopping off at waterside hostelries before moving off in time to moor at another hostelry for the evening. Boat hire is big business here. Some folk live by the water and have their own. It’s a good place to house-sit!

winter aesthetics
private mooring

Winter brings a different kind of aesthetic beauty and makes creatives like me get out the paint brushes and/or write poetry, especially when mist hangs over the water and everything is still.

aesthetic mist
winter staithe in mist

Winter Staithe ©

( a staithe is a cutting or inlet )

 

No wind to fill the billowing sail.

No sun to bathe the picnic decks

where plimsolled little sailors skipped

gaily in and out and dripped

their melting ice creams down their necks.

No birds to follow in the trail

to search for scraps, to wheel and cry

and loudly squabble ownership

of tasty morsels newly slipped

into the wake. The staithe and sky

in rippled stillness form a pale

and misty shadow of the days

gone by. The old gate creaks

its winter joints. The reeds break

through the grey and filmy haze

with shots of gold: thin echo of a summer’s tale.

. . . . . . . . . .

More Norfolk posts to come in the goodness of time. Leave a comment, please. Don’t be shy. I love to hear from you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

creativity, CRPS

Hello, Stranger. How’s your CRPS?

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It’s been a while. I haven’t written a new post since May. If you’ve read previous posts on the pain of CRPS you’ll know how it sometimes affects my creativity.

Chronic pain knocks the stuffing out

It’s like there’s no energy left for anything other than crawling back into bed. With an extra pillow to support the throbbing arm. With a hot water bottle to ease the painful shoulder. With a heated lavender pack under your neck. Sexy, huh?

In the early days my hand was swollen. If you Google images for a CRPS hand guess whose comes up?

CRPS hand
yes, folks, that’s me

I found I could use the keyboard with one hand but sitting at the desk in constant pain didn’t get my head in the right place for writing, especially the kind of fiction beloved by women’s magazines. Besides, my head was in a fog most of the time due to side effects of various medications. But I could edit. So, little by little I managed to get my first two novels out.

Oh, that seems so long ago.

CRPS beginning
CRPS beginning

Where my CRPS is now

The swelling has gone now. Thanks to early intervention my claw of a hand is more user-friendly. (You cannot peel a potato with one hand, not to mention putting  on a bra!)

Now I can do most tasks beyond my capabilities at the outset. And I’m grateful for that. I still drop things and take twice as long as other people at the supermarket cash desk but if I have a word with the cashier beforehand they’ll go more steadily for me. Top marks to Tesco on this one – always happy to help.

tesco
top marks for Tesco

But it seems my CRPS has spread to other places in my body. It’s gastro-intestinal stuff now, people. Look away now if the subject is too distasteful.

I have cyclical vomiting and diarrhoea. And it’s becoming more frequent. I’ve tried to ascertain which foods might be culprits and I know now to avoid heavily fatty meals but, still, some days the cycle begins without any reason, it seems to me.

I have an appointment to see my doctor next month which, by coincidence is CRPS awareness month.

crpsawarenessmonth
CRPS awareness

My doctor knows how I feel about taking medication. I control the amount I take. Rigorously control. However, as I realise I’m a candidate for osteoporosis due to the CRPS I’m going to ask for a Vitamin D check. If I can avoid further damage to my bones by taking a vitamin supplement, I will swill it down gladly.

In the meantime, cyclical vomiting permitting, I continue with my writing endeavours.

The Sandman and Mrs Carter is under review with a publisher. I’m also revisiting Queer as Folk, my second collection of short stories.

And I’m getting my orange outfit ready for CRPS Awareness Day.

crpsawareness
CRPS awareness
creativity, WordPress Daily Post

Immortalised in Stone

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How would I wish 2015 to be immortalised in stone?

In response to the WordPress daily challenge <a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_prompt/immortalized-in-stone/”>Immortalized in Stone</a>

If I were to commission a sculptor to carve an immortal,  personal symbol of 2015 what would it be?

immortalised
a prize to die for?

I have a rather complicated image in my mind’s eye of the way I’d want my 2015 carved in stone as regular readers and friends will understand. To be immortalised means to be made non-mortal. God-like, even. Something never-ending, absolute, memorable. All positive.

And – lo, and behold, I’ve got there. Not immortal. No. Not there. I’ve arrived at the positive place that seemed unreachable six months ago, Hallelujah! Fates be praised. I’m sitting in the same chair by the same window, looking at the same view but I’m seeing something entirely different. Where once I saw empty space, now I see freedom – the freedom to fill that space with whatever I choose. How fabulous is that?

immortalised
the price of immortality

I’ve done the dying swan bit. More than once. I won’t go into details. Suffice it to say I keep on bouncing back. I should have been a cat but I don’t know how many lives I have left. Whatever it is I choose to do next I better get it right. You know, just in case I’m running out of bouncability.

However, not everybody agrees that being immortalised is necessarily a worthy objective.

immortalisedBut the challenge is not about the immortality of the individual: it’s about the year 2015. Which brings me back to the positive/negative argument I’ve had going on in my head since February.

I still have some heavy negatives to face. To fight. But, oh, boy am I up for it. I haven’t felt this strong in an age. I’m back to being me, the real me who somehow disappeared and only came out to play once a week at choir practice. It’s a damned good feeling.

So what would my sculpture be?

Imagine a stone spiral. At the solid base supporting the structure are hewn family, grandchildren and friends. Their loving arms are entwined above their heads and they’re holding up filigree metal branches decorated with books and paper and paints and paintbrushes and music scores with treble clefs and triplets. There are lipsticks and fancy bottles of perfume and shoes with killer heels.

And when the wind caresses my sculpture there is a humming sound through the branches; forged musical notes tinkle like a wind chime; the high heels tap their timpani against the stone till the spiral spins on its axis. When decorations fall from the sculpture it doesn’t matter because other people can add their own mementoes; their own important little fancies so that my sculpture is always changing.

That’ll do, monkey. We’re done now.

 

immortalised
spreading the message
creativity, CRPS, Narcissism, relationships, Writing

Creativity block.Emotional abuse

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Where’s my creativity?

(Edited) I removed this post from public view in May 2015. Now I’m in the right place to re-release it)

I have a creativity block. I’ve posted on creativity before. In the early stages of my CRPS I was in so much pain I had no energy to write fiction. Constant pain and exhaustion, not to mention medication-induced nausea, put paid to creating new short stories or plot ideas for novels. I know about physical pain.  At the time I wrote that post I didn’t know a lot about the other kind of pain.

creativity block
saps your creativity

It’s been nearly two months since the cruel discard. In that time I’m learning to cope with losing my relationship, my home, my life in my adopted country and all the friends I made there. I miss my home and my friends. I want to have my own furniture around me. (I’m still staying with friends in their home) I long for the warmth of the climate in southern France. Cool breezes in the east of England don’t help the pain of CRPS. I miss distant mountains and blue skies, Languedoc vineyards and villages. I miss writing my Wednesday Vine Report here on my website. I miss choir rehearsals on Monday afternoons with wine and gossip at the bar in Capestang afterwards.

But I don’t miss him.

His verbal cruelty killed that. His cruelly callous treatment of me has ensured I never want to set eyes on him again. I don’t miss his face. I don’t miss his voice. Both were impostors. Both were lies.

I still yearn for the way I thought it used to be even though I now know it was all a pretence on his part. I still grieve for the lost dream.

But I don’t long for him.

My personal creativity block

I long for ME. The person I used to be. The one who was excited about her writing. The one who was full of ideas and couldn’t wait to get them down.

But my brain is crammed full of unpleasantness.

writefromtheheart1
what if it’s broken?

My heart isn’t in the right place. I want rid of the nastiness so I can concentrate on healing. I think it’s going to take a long time to break the creativity block. I’m going to have to get it out of my system before I’m free. Whenever I try to free my thinking from this frustrating situation, I’m disappointed. Free thinking doesn’t last long. I keep coming back to the same old, same old that’s troubling me. It’s like banging my head against a brick wall.

creativity brick wall
if I bang my head on it enough will I break through?

Creativity needs space. Space in your mind. And in your heart. Space in your intelligence. The right side of my brain where creativity comes from is all tied up with thoughts of what am I going to do? Where am I going to live? How am I going to be able to manage on my own? Do I stay in England or go back to France? What if he continues being awkward and refuses to pay me for my half of the house in France we furnished together?

creativity
my brain is overloaded

There’s no room left for creativity. Right now all I can write about is pure non-fiction: the stranger than fiction facts that have brought me to this place in my life. Until I’ve dealt with it and feel confident I can settle into a new life I’m stuck in this dark place. Fictionless. I can’t even read any.

On the website Insights on making ideas happen by Mark McGuinness there’s a list of things to help overcome creativity block. I’m concentrating on number four.

4. Personal problems.

Creativity demands focus — and it’s hard to concentrate if you’re getting divorced/ dealing with toddlers/battling an addiction/falling out with your best friend/grieving someone special/moving house/locked in a dispute with a neighbor. If you’re lucky, you’ll only have to deal with this kind of thing one at a time — but troubles often come in twos or threes.

Solution: There are basically two ways to approach a personal problem that is interfering with your creative work — either solve the problem or find ways of coping until it passes.

For the first option you may need some specialist help, or support from friends or family. And it may be worth taking a short-term break from work in order to resolve the issue and free yourself up for the future.

In both cases, it helps if you can treat your work as a refuge — an oasis of control and creative satisfaction in the midst of the bad stuff. Use your creative rituals to set your problems aside and focus for an hour, or a few, each day. When your work is done, you may even find you see your personal situation with a fresh eye.

I can’t comply with Mark’s first suggestion. I’m unable to solve the problem. As I write, I continue to depend on the goodwill of friends to put their roof over my head. Himself simply does not care about the situation he has deliberately caused.

And so I’m going to keep on writing about it. Maybe this will help break through the creativity block.

surviving the discard
writing as catharsis

I’ve already made a tentative start to a new non-fiction book. FOLLOW CELIA to see how I progress.

Don’t be shy. Leave a comment. I’ll get back to you. Your email remains private.

Edited: Password protected since May 2015. Password removed October 2017

Creativity restored and third novel: The Sandman and Mrs Carter published on Amazon.

Sign up for news of my next book People Who Hurt. Publication early 2018

creativity, Novels, Patterns of Our Lives, Writing

How sad is ‘The End’ ? Missing your characters.

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The End of the book
image from ‘The Guardian’

Some people feel sad when they finish reading a book or a series. There’s a new hole in their lives, they say, when the last page is turned and the characters they’ve come to know and support fade away.

Here on Reddit, there’s a discussion about how finishing a book causes sadness.

Bailey laments the coming to the end of a series in 2013 in her BookBlogging blog.

In Yahoo answers the discussion mentions sadness at finishing a book because the reader has become so attached to the characters.

On GoodReads, too, there are readers who explain how they feel sad when they’ve finished reading a book they’ve really enjoyed.

So how do writers feel when they’ve finished?

If you can feel sad when you’ve finished reading a book, how much sadder are you going to feel when you’ve finished writing one?

The writers at Jungle Red discuss it here. Most writers feel something of a kind of emptiness but deal with it in different ways. Some jump straight back into the next novel. Others enjoy taking a break.

Flaubert said this –

“I love my work with a love that is frenzied and perverted, as an ascetic loves the hair shirt that scratches his belly. Sometimes, when I am empty, when words don’t come, when I find I haven’t written a single sentence after scribbling whole pages, I collapse on my couch and lie there dazed, bogged in a swamp of despair, hating myself and blaming myself for this demented pride which makes me pant after a chimera. A quarter of an hour later everything changes; my heart is pounding with joy. Last Wednesday I had to get up and fetch my handkerchief; tears were streaming down my face. I had been moved by my own writing; the emotion I had conceived, the phrase that rendered it, and satisfaction of having found the phrase–all were causing me to experience the most exquisite pleasure.”
-Flaubert

He must have been depressed beyond imagination when he actually finished.

I admit I’ve made myself cry

when I’ve killed off characters. I’ve got myself all riled up during arguments between my fictitious people and found it difficult not to take sides. I’ve felt for myself the heartwarming/heartbreaking bits, but the act of finishing, actually coming to ‘The End’ has been a very strange feeling indeed.

When I finish a short story, I can’t wait to submit it and see if a magazine is going to take it up. I don’t grieve for the fact that story is finished. I’m not so invested in the characters. I’d be wrung out like a rag if I became so deeply involved as with the characters in a full length novel.

So, now I’m missing the characters in Patterns of Our Lives. They’ve been a part of my life for so long. The best I can do for them now is market the book and find ways to promote my work and persuade people to read it so they can come to love Sandra and Jean, Polish George and Ronnie Logan and all the others. Like grown up children, they have to go out into the world.

I’ll leave the final words to the Bard:-

Juliet:
‘Tis almost morning, I would have thee gone—
And yet no farther than a wan-ton’s bird,
That lets it hop a little from his hand,
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
And with a silken thread plucks it back again,
So loving-jealous of his liberty.

Romeo:
I would I were thy bird.

Juliet:
Sweet, so would I,
Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.
Good night, good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow,
That I shall say good night till it be morrow. [Exit above]

Romeo And Juliet Act 2, scene 2, 176–185

The End
farewell my friends . . .
creativity, CRPS, Inspirations, Writing

A pain in the Arts.

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Pain shut off my creative spark. I didn’t have the faintest glow. Not even a hint of warmth, never mind sparkle. So, I got to thinking where does creativity come from? And where has it gone now that I’m battling this CRPS diagnosis?

How can we measure suffering?

pain scale
on a scale of 1 to 10 where would you place your pain?

Doctors usually ask you to rate your pain on a scale of 1 to 10. What I’m looking for is proof that there’s a connection between pain and creativity so I can understand why my light went out temporarily.

Doctor Joy Madden who’s the self development editor for Bella online says that, actually, we might need suffering because it can have a positive effect on our creativity.

(Not mine, Doctor Joy)

Indeed, her article goes on to say, and I quote:  “Some of the most famous creative works have been accomplished when experiencing the greatest pain.”

(Oh dear)

In Pain and the Creative Process, author K. Ferlic says:

“Although pain is not inherent to the creative process, it is integrally tied to the creative process as performed by humans because of how we create our experiences. Pain and the creative process are related in several different ways.”

Similarly, in Pain and suffering and developing creativity, 

Cheryl Arutt, Psy.D., a psychologist specializing in creative artist issues, says “Many creative people carry the belief that their pain is the locus of their creativity, and worry that they will lose their creativity if they work through their inner conflicts or let go of suffering…”

(Oh, double dear)

It seems to me that in articles such as these they’re talking about the need to have experienced pain of depression, loss, longing and desire to fire up the creative processes.

I’m not talking about the ‘tortured’ artist who creates on the agony in every brush stroke or word of what it felt like to be dumped by her precious ‘other’. I think it’s only common sense to see that if you want to write about heartbreak, it helps if you had it yourself at one time.

I’m talking about having CRPS right now.

CRPS pain scale
CRPS pain scale

It hurts. It really hurts. Now. And now. And NOW. Over and over like Groundhog Day.

‘Look out! Your wrist just got broken,’ mine tells me. ‘Look out! Your wrist just got broken. Tell your arm your wrist just got broken. Tell your elbow your wrist just got broken. Tell your shoulder your wrist just got broken. We’re all broken. NOW. Broken. BROKEN.’

You get the picture. But other people don’t. They’re so happy to see you out and about they slap you on the shoulder or they rub your arm and don’t realise they’re putting you through agony. I try to anticipate and turn to the side but I’m never quite quick enough.

Chronic pain is tiring. Exhausting. Medication gives you nausea on top of everything else you’re putting up with. You can’t sleep so you’re even more fatigued. You begin to avoid going to places where people will rub your arm and tell you they’re glad you’re all better now. And, yes, from time to time you get a little depressed.

With all of the above going on, how could anybody find the energy to be creative?

So where do ideas come from?

Read Neil Gaiman’s thoughts on this. I like his thinking. I like the reference to daydreaming. I like how he says ideas come often when you’re doing something else.

But, when you’re in real, excruciating pain, right now this second, you don’t do something else; you don’t do daydreaming. You’re not relaxed enough for those things. All you can do is try to cope with your pain and get through the day, the hour. When you are relaxed it’s because medication got you there and you probably wouldn’t even remember how to write a shopping list in the state you’re in, never mind write the next five thousand words.

I found I could edit, though. I could look at what I’d already written and reshape it, get it ready for publication. So there is a positive to come out of it. Maybe without the enforced limitations on my capabilities I might never have got around to editing Patterns of Our Lives. I’m pleased and proud it’s out there and selling.

But, don’t tell me pain is conducive to creative arts. It only works in the past tense.