Have you ever heard a writer say: “The book wrote itself.” There is truth to those words. What the writer means is that there is an intrinsic process to writing where the writer feels like the words are channeling through her or him. That particular writer is the beacon to transmit that particular communication. The relayed information turns into a story, a book, a poem, a work of non-fiction, or whatever happens to be the genre or medium.
This is truly where the writer wants to be: typing or writing the words, sentences, paragraphs, the ideas, creations and meaning, without feeling the resistance, angst or worry of what is happening to the page. The story unfolds and it feels right. This freely flowing energy excites, and thus, consequently, creates a high feeling. This height is a pure form of happiness. It’s a sense of knowing and a source of inspiration that’s profoundly fulfilling.
Writers are not alone in this feeling or experience. Ask artists their process and most certainly there will be mention of their feelings; they were following their gut. It was their intuition that told them where to, or not to, go. This feeling of knowing moves beyond an artists’ world, although it is more prevalent in a creative realm. Einstein certainly had a creative burst while pondering physics giving birth to his Theory of Relativity and his gut probably told him to run freely with the idea, later giving it more thought while putting his theory to work.
Recently I wrote a short story that took me for a ride. I went along with my gut. 10,000 words later, the story came to an end. I was left feeling satisfied, excited and mystified. What did I just write? It freely came out of me, an outpouring of words, thoughts, feelings, emotions, lives touched and places traveled. When I had a fellow writer read my work, she asked: “What drugs were you on?” My answer was simple: “None.” It was pure moments of gut, listening, writing, and constant forward momentum. She loved the piece; it held her, captivated her, although she didn’t completely understand it.
It doesn’t matter if she understood it or not; what is important is that the story held her attention and she continued reading. Some would argue that point, but I look at it another way: understanding is relative to a person’s experience, point of view, perception. A story can be changed and edited. Sometimes things don’t come in neat and tidy packages with a clear-cut story line; some work is left to make the reader think. Did Einstein’s Theory of Relativity stop him from working on his project? No. And it won’t stop me either. My gut is my guide.