What to do When the Well Runs Dry
By Pat Nease
I was a
writer before I was a storyteller, and cannot remember ever hitting a blank
wall, of having no spark, no festering ideas waiting to be developed, no urge
to create. I loved assembling the frame,
linking the right words together, deliberating over a phrase – or a joke – or a
pun, feeling the rush when the ending made itself known. Ideas were always popping into my head and I
needed no excuse to create a story.
One of my fondest memories was, while
teaching, writing an End-of-the-Year story every year for our faculty that was
shared at our final gathering. It
included all the good, the bad, and the crazy things that happened during the
school year – with funny asides about folks and students. We laughed our way through it. I wrote songs to help my 5th
graders remember American history. When
I was busy entering Liar’s Contests, or presenting workshops, or telling stories
for various events, I had no qualms about coming up with a new take on an old
tale or waking with an idea that was unique just to me.
Until the last few years.
I haven’t
had an original creative thought since 2018.
I can’t decide if I got lazy, that maybe it was easier to keep telling
the old stories that I KNEW worked, or if I was so busy with other life matters
that there was no time for contemplation, for dreaming, for saying, “What if…”
I stopped
keeping up my web site and calendar. I
avoided my storytelling books and magazines.
I was not inclined to watch Zoomed Teller events – remorse? Jealousy?
Shame? I’d be on the brink of taking
down my shingle when, out of the blue, someone would invite me to tell.
I’d get away
with telling my old standbys – but to a new audience. Well. Mostly. So I hung on.
Meanwhile,
my colleagues were delivering lovely, inspiring, thoughtful, humorous,
delicious tales.
When Walt Belcher asked me to write something for the Blog, I had no ideas. He suggested maybe something on humor or
developing a whopper or my mode of creating story. Hah.
That was an empty bucket. But I
began to reflect on the passion I seemed to have lost and wonder if I could get
it back.
I hope so.
I’m hoping
the muscle can be revitalized, sort of like an athlete who has to regain
strength after an injury. And maybe
that’s what I have. An injury. Or so I hope. Here’s the plan:
1. TIME for reading and writing and
thinking. Every day. (For a while, there were not enough hours in
the day, especially after Hurricane Michael.
Things are more settled now.)
2. New experiences. I hadn’t put my kayak in the water for over 3
years, lived near beautiful beaches but didn’t go there, let opportunities to
attend a variety of events pass me by, limited my circle of friends. Gonna’ change this!
3. Creating opportunities for
telling. When did I stop volunteering
for our senior centers? Contacting
libraries for their summer programs?
Letting my local schools know that I was alive and well and available? My primary mode of operation has always been
deadline panic. I’d procrastinate, then
be putting the finishing touches on a story the day it was to be told. I know, I know. Not a smart way to work, but it DID
work. Maybe the panic opened up a door
in my brain that was otherwise sticky.
4. Support from Storytellers. If you’ve been where I am, or have an idea, or just want to offer encouragement, let me know. I never feel more alive than when I’m sharing a story and know my listeners and I are all on the bus, barreling down the same highway. I want to feel that way again.
Pa
Florida Storytelling Association 2010 Lifetime Achievement Award
Dear Pat,
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing this very real experience. I hope you can get back in front of live audiences.
Debar Weller
I hear you Pat. Sometimes you have to step back. But I for one and I know there are more that want to hear more tall tales, more puns, more fractured fairytales, more ukulele, and just more from you.
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