Before the Spark Fades

In my younger years, I have to admit I enjoyed creative writing, especially poetry. I found it challenged my creativity.

I never enjoyed free verse because, to me, it just felt like rambling with no structure.

In all the years I wrote poetry, I only wrote one free verse poem. It was an assignment from a teacher, and even then I found a way to make it rhyme at the end.

I've always had a bit of a defiant streak.

Eventually, I was even published, which at the time felt like a huge accomplishment.

Back then, inspiration came easily.

I could watch a television show about animals becoming extinct and five minutes later I'd have a finished poem. No mistakes. One pass. It was like the words were already there, just waiting for me to write them down.

I'd watch other people rewrite the same poem over and over while mine seemed to arrive all at once.

Then I Got Cocky

Then I got cocky.

Instead of writing everything down, I'd jot a few words on a piece of paper and tell myself I'd come back to it later.

What I learned was that inspiration doesn't wait.

When I came back, the idea wasn't the same anymore.

What had been clear was now muddled.

Other thoughts found their way onto the page. The original idea slowly disappeared beneath them until it wasn't the same poem I had in my head.

That's when I realized inspiration has a shelf life.

If an idea comes to you, capture as much of it as you can while it's fresh. You can always go back later and improve the wording, fix the grammar, or rearrange the structure.

What you can't do is recreate the feeling that gave you the idea in the first place.

Once that spark is gone, you're no longer writing from inspiration.

You're writing from memory.

Ideas are a lot like fish.

There are always more swimming by, but the one you're looking at right now won't wait for you.

If you hesitate, it disappears beneath the surface, and by the time you reach for it, it's gone.

The next time inspiration shows up, don't assume it will still be there tomorrow.

Catch the fish while it's still in front of you.