Giving the Inner Critic What For!

Okay, do you have the symbol of your Inner Critic?

If not, find one.

Take it in hand.

Hold it before you.

Look it in the eye, if it has an eye, or dead on center.

Talk to it, out loud. Be as firm as you need to be. Say something such as, “Inner Critic, I’m going in search of the Rabbit Hole now and if I’m lucky and brave, I’ll fall right in. But for sure that won’t happen if you’re around. So get your butt in gear and get out of my writing space!”

Pause, listen, get a sense as to whether your Inner Critic believes you. If not, repeat your statement, make yourself sound more commanding. Say it until both you and your Inner Critic know that you are in charge. Now, literally, carry your Inner Critic away from your writing space. Turn its back to a wall, bury it under a mound of towels or dirty clothes. Do whatever you need to do, short of annihilating it, to keep it away while you are creating. At the same time, advise the Inner Critic that when you finish creating, you will come and get her. Tell her this will be the routine whenever you are writing, and if she has hopes of ever being partners in your creative endeavors, she’d better learn to stop nosing in and berating you.

When you are certain the Inner Critic is safely under your control, return to your writing space.

Do this exercise as many times as you need until you feel the imagination overpowering the Inner Critic. You may need to do it every time you go to work in this book or on your writing or in other areas that demand creativity. I do this exercise when I am feeling anxious or upset and need to get control of my emotions. After a while, you won’t need the symbol of your Inner Critic; you’ll be able to carry on a conversation in your mind. When you no longer need the physical image of your Inner Critic, you can enshrine it on top of the refrigerator or on the back of the toilet bowl!

Let the Gypsy in You Dance! And an Exercise

You cannot be truly creative until the gypsy in you dances.

Clarissa Pinkola Estes

Imagining your creative desires is the first step on the journey to getting them. The pursuit is not an easy one. Creativity doesn’t just happen. Wildly creative people aren’t the beloved children of the Fates. creativity is hard work. It is risky business. Creativity is something we must choose every day of our lives.

Creativity is active and passionate. Creativity is about doing and feeling. The rich fertile ground where creativity is born and nurtured lies in the heart and the gut. Creativity rises from the unknown, the unseen, the forgotten. Creativity laughs and cries, it dances and sings, it creates and destroys.

Calling Forth Your Gypsy

List negative words to describe Gypsies.

List positive words to describe Gypsies.

Write down one subject that you would never, never write about. If you think there isn’t any subject that is taboo, make one up.

Make a list of all your creative desires. Leave nothing out.

Make a list of the risks you have taken in your life. Big risks, little risks—they all count.

Go to the list of creative desires and see if there are any more you’d like to add.

Look at the list of your risks. Which one makes you feel the best? Why?

Get a crayon, broad-tipped magic marker or dark inked pen. . look at the one subject that you would never, never write about. Write it down now.

Write a short piece about an imagined character doing the one thing that you would never write about. Whatever you write, make it something that both frightens and delights you. The point of this exercise is to take a chance, be bold, passionate, have fun! Get down and dirty. Let your imagination run free. Write without thinking. Let the Gypsy in you dance.

This exercise is taken from Emily Hanlon's book, The Art of Fiction Writing

Creative Chaos: Its Call, Its Difficulty and Its Freedom.

A TeleSeminar from Emily Hanlon

Tuesday, April 22, 1 pm eastern time

Chaos is integral to the creative process.
Without chaos, nothing would be born.

This chaos has been called the great seething sea of the unconscious and it is the most difficult aspect of the creative process. It follows on the heels of the first spark of creativity, when everything is possible and nothing has taken form.

You try to give form to your idea, but the idea refuses to be tamed. Possibility and excitement turn into fear and overwhelming discouragement.

What happened to my great idea! Everything is falling apart. I'll never get it done... woe is me... I'm not really creative...

At this point, if you give into despair, you are in danger of aborting your creativity. For it is in the chaos that the spark of creativity is nurtured. In fact, you might even call the chaos the womb of creativity.

This TeleSeminar explores the irresistible call, difficulties and ultimate joy and freedom of creative chaos!

If you can't attend the TeleSeminar, you can listen online
or download the audio to your computer, CD or Ipod.

Cds are also available.

Tuesday, April 22, 1 pm eastern timeRegister: $20

A Room of One’s Own

"There must be silence to hear the song,
there must be darkness to see the stars.
The dance is always danced above the hollow place,
above the terrible abyss."
Ursula LeGuinn, "The Farthest Shore"

Do you have a place where you write? A place that is especially yours? If you have one, does it support and reflect your creativity? It is inspiring and fun to make your writing place alive and organic, a shrine to your creativity, delights and passions. Gather things small and large. Pictures of people you love, flowers, rocks, toys. Choose and arrange them carefully and with love.

My writing room was my son’s room originally. When he moved out, I took over what had been his dark teenage den and transformed it into my space. I wallpapered, much to his chagrin, with lovely blue-flowered paper. Stars and moons hang from my ceiling above my computer. (I feel compelled to say I was a star and moon collector long before it became the fad!) On top of my monitor I have a little plastic windup toy of a cat in a cup as well as a statue of a lamb that I bought while touring England’s West Country; there is a small knight given to me by my son, a pin that says “magic happens,” a chakra stick given to me by my daughter, a piece of bark from a tree. On the wall to my right hangs a rain stick crossed over a sword and across the room is a Celtic Cross carved into slate that my husband bought me in England. There are pictures of my family; my favorite books are nearby and a flowering plant is on the desk. I try, but I can’t seem to keep my room neat for more than a day. Sometimes that bothers me, sometimes it doesn’t. No matter, I love this room. It is mine.

I sit here when I need peace. I curl up on the couch when I am sick, and my three cats, Al, Mushy and Jilly, have staked out their claims—Al and Mushy on the couch, Jilly by my computer or on my chair. (We have a long-standing battle as to who owns the chair!) If my golden retriever, Molly, can’t find me, she checks this room first. And last but not least, I know my characters are at home here, waiting for me to return each morning.

I have had many writing spaces over the years, everything from the dining room table to the guest room. This last space is the best I’ve ever had. I created it from the bottom up with one thought in mind: to make it mine.

Message from the Muse

The work in process becomes the poet’s fate and determines his psychic development. It is not Goethe who creates Faust but Faust who creates Goethe.

C.G. Jung