Losing Passion

Below is a post I wrote last year before I began my classes and various projects that have consumed any free time I actually have. I was wasting my time, and I wasn’t doing anything to change my habits. Of course, I had no motivation to do so. I’m publishing it now to show what it sounds like when a person loses their passion. I am still dealing with this. I have no answers or solutions for you, other than to keep going or change the path your on, change what you’re doing. It’s important, if you are burned out, to find something else that catches you on fire again.

 

 

 

I don’t want to come here and write to a handful of people who don’t seem to care. You, reading this right now, do you care? Are you a creative person who wants to connect with other creatives and, possibly, learn from each other? Because I’m not getting that from anyone at the moment.

Although, I’m not completely sure if that matters. I’m still learning, after all.

I go home and, if I don’t workout, I get online and watch a video or movie. I don’t read. I don’t write.  Well, sometimes I’ll read and sometimes I’ll write, but it’s nowhere near the scale it was before.

I feel guilty. I still get excited for all the ideas I have and continue to have. I’m just no longer motivated or happy to make them into anything. I don’t want to write.

I DON’T WANT TO WRITE.

That is, I don’t want to write right now. I’m unmotivated. I can’t work up any gumption. In fairness, I don’t really want to do anything, which may have to do with other things, overarching things, things beyond my control.

In my head, I think I should write a second book piece-by-piece, get those pieces published individually and then try to get the whole thing published. And I’ve been trying it, although it’s been a slow, miserable, grinding process. I’m about ready to give up. No, that’s not completely right. I’m ready to give up. I want to give up.

I WANT TO GIVE UP.

The idea behind this blog was to write about life and experiences with and for other creative people. It was also a way to keep something going and changing on this site. I’ve somehow managed to keep this going. I’m not entirely sure how.

Here’s an excellent piece by Katy Cowan called Creatives, if you’ve lost your passion, don’t be afraid to change. If you want more like this or on the subject of losing passion, I guarantee that if you google something along the lines of losing your creative passion, you’ll get a plethora of results.

 

Any questions and comments are welcome here. Have any suggestions for future blogs or content, feel free to let me know.

 

All the best,

 

Nathan

The People You Know Pt. 2

There are many ways to ask people permission. That is, if you’re going to. As previously stated in another post from June of 2016, The People You Know, which you should read if you haven’t already, some don’t. Again, personal preference is abundant here. What follows are just a few that I’ve used, heard others use, and/or thought of as a possibility.

 

  1. The Sit Down
  • With this one, it’s not necessary to show the person the work, and this can be done prior to conceptualizing whatever you’re about to create. This involves close, personal contact. You’ll have to be in the same room as the person you’re writing or using as your muse. I recommend doing this as a one-on-one type meeting. Invite them in and/or over to two chairs preferably across from each other with a table between the two of you, but you can also sit side-by-side. It all depends on whether or not you want to turn your body or have some space just in case things go awry. Then ask them if it’s ok to write about them. I recommend direct eye contact in this scenario, as you sit across from them, because shifty eyes can give them the feeling that something is amiss, which it might be depending on what you’re going to do with them in your piece. Keep in mind, a lack of steady eyes and confidence will be your undoing.
  1. The Stand Up
  • This is exactly the same as the Sit Down except that you, well, stand up. The only benefit that I can think of is that it’s noticeably more awkward and the person you’re talking to might come to an answer or a yes faster just so they can get away from the situation. Also probably works more effectively on and for impatient people.
  1. The Phone Call
  • Seriously, if you don’t get what to do here, then I don’t know what to tell you. Call the person up and ask them if it’s cool. Don’t actually say, “Is it cool,” though. Explain what you’re doing and what you need from them, which is permission.
  • Pros: Zero body language to be read and mistranslated. You can do this anywhere you can use a phone.
  • Cons: Can be interpreted as impersonal. It might be impersonal, but probably not as bad as the next.
  1. The Text
  • Again, similar to The Phone Call, except in this version, you send a text message as the request as opposed to verbal dialogue. Similar pros and cons too.
  1. The Email
  • You can make this seem professional with a To Whom It May Concern, or give it a more personal Dear; or just put the person’s name for a more nonchalant feel. Similar to the text, but usually more structured, The Email is a quick and easy way to ask. Unfortunately, you’ll need internet access, but this isn’t the 1990s so you should be fine.
  1. The Pass Off or Handover
  • It sounds weird, but it’s simple. You create the piece, right? Once you’re done, you approach the person the piece is about, you pass off a copy to them, and then you say, “Is this all right?” If they say, “Yes,” good for you, and if they say, “No,” then you don’t have permission. If you fail on obtaining permission in this manner you can go with the other options, redo whatever you made and try this again later, or you can choose to go through with it anyway and risk the relationship. You know, whichever is easier for you, I guess.
  1. The Tell
  • Not like in poker, The Tell isn’t really about getting permission. It’s more about letting them know what you’re up to. It’s for the person who doesn’t care all that much, but doesn’t want to seem like a complete asshole. It’s rather straightforward, anyway you want to do it, let the subject know what you’re doing. It doesn’t matter if they say yes or no or act confused, them knowing counts as permission.
  1. The Waiver
  • What do you want me to say? Write up a waiver and get them to read it and then sign and date it. I’ve never heard of anyone who isn’t a lawyer doing this, but you’re welcome to give it a try. It will certainly, possibly remove virtually all risk from any potential, future legal trouble this may present.
  1. The Contract
  • This is similar to The Waiver, except with The Contract the two of you discuss what can and cannot be used as material. You come to some sort of mutual agreement, and then you can sign a sheet with each other’s stipulations or just verbally agree on the matter. This may be the best for the person who is being used for your art, but may be the most harmful for it too.
  1. The Surrogate
  • All you have to do for this one is get someone else to do it for you, hence the name of this strategy. I recommend getting someone to do this that the person you’re creating about likes and/or trusts, preferably more than you. This is especially useful for the person that you don’t know that well or who doesn’t like you. The problem with this is that you risk completely ruining your relationship with the person you’re creating about and possibly the relationship that person has with your surrogate.

 

 

All of these are real scenarios albeit more on the tongue-in-cheek side. In all seriousness, it can be a nice step in a relationship to talk to other people about the possibility of using them in your writing or any creative endeavor. People tend to appreciate it if you do, but, as I’ve said repeatedly, you don’t have to. How you handle or don’t handle the situation is entirely up to you. I hope that your creating goes well, and that you don’t lose anyone in the process. Although, that’s the way it goes sometime. I’ll attempt to touch upon that later in another piece.

 

Peace,

Nathan

The People You Know

Chicago, 2012, AWP Conference

 

I entered a cavernous room with white, ornate walls. A hundred people sat in petite, metal, folding chairs with even more crammed against the sides. I stood in the back, not sure of who was talking. I had never heard of any of them. I knew they each wrote some form of nonfiction though. I knew what they were discussing. I knew it was important to me.

They were talking about writing about the people you know.

It’s a complicated and often sore subject in art, not just writing. It’s a matter of ethics, personal preference, relationships, and creating. There are a few viewpoints on this matter. Ultimately, what you choose is completely up to you. Here, in my own words, are what they covered at this conference:

 

  1. It Doesn’t Matter.

This will always be a favorite of mine. I won’t do it, but a favorite nonetheless.

It’s the shamelessness of it that gets me, I think. I can just imagine someone tossing back their hair, wind blowing through it, a smile brushed across their face, and a whole bunch of upset people crying or not talking to them. Anyone and everyone is fair game when it comes to your work. This is not for everyone, not for the faint of heart or those with weak constitutions.

The real thing here is, who cares? Because the truth is the truth and it will get out eventually. I think it’s commendable to be able to create without allowing others to limit you and also potentially be able to smooth over any bumps that may occur in your relationships. Again, I couldn’t do this, but kudos.

 

  1. As Long As They Know

There’s a theory that as long as the people in your life know that they could be the subject of your work, it’s ok to use them. It’s more of an implied warning, but I recommend being straightforward if you want to go for an approach. Let them know by telling them. Some people wait for permission after they know, but in this instance it’s just the idea of knowing that gets you off the hook, supposedly. If they choose to stay in your life, then it’s pretty much their fault.

 

  1. As Long As They Consent

It’s a personal thing, writing about people. This concept revolves around asking permission. If it’s a no, you can’t do anything. If it’s a yes, you’re allowed to either assume this is a go ahead for all future works or just this specific one. I would go with the former, but cautiousness sides with the latter.

 

  1. As Long As They Agree

This is common practice, actually. The idea is that you check what you’ve made with the person in question. If they agree with the story you’ve told or the image you’ve constructed, then you’ve been green lit. If not, then you’ve run into a problem, and you can either scrap the whole thing or get it to agree with them. I, personally, am against this one as a memoirist. Memory is a subjective thing. One person’s experience is not ubiquitous; it doesn’t carry over to the other people involved, not exactly. Again, up to you.

 

  1. As Long As It’s Accurate

This is similar to number 4. Again, you can ask their permission here, but it’s not necessary. I prescribe to this one, for some reason. In this instance, you check for factual accuracy, lining up your recollection with theirs and getting historical information down as well. But you shouldn’t change your story because it doesn’t match up with someone else’s in this case. What you’re aiming for here is greater accuracy. Don’t completely change your memory because someone doesn’t agree with you.

Still, you don’t want errors in your writing. At least, having dates and basic circumstances down as close to what they really are/were is important to me, and should be important to you too. If you do this, then you’re good to go.

 

  1. As Long As They’re Dead

I think this one is self explanatory. Not applicable to people you don’t know.

 

I listened to these people for over an hour, my legs beginning to lose feeling. Their voices rose, echoing. No one could agree. Some of them worried about other people, and others didn’t. Alienation will always be a possibility. In fact, it’s a right of passage. Everyone who writes or uses the people they know in their work will have to come face to face with this, sometimes more literally than others. It’s important to know how you’re going to handle this, but even more so to not let it hinder what you’re doing.

 

 

Don’t stop. Won’t stop. #sorrynotsorry.

 

Nathan