Published in  
Creative Process
 on  
March 24, 2022

I don't know how I do what I do

So much of the creative process mystery. How much of what we do as creators do we actually understand—and how much do we even need to? As a writer, I don't know how I do what, and as important as it is to examine our process, there's also mystery at the heart of the creative endeavour that makes it magical.

That’s how my exploration of the writing process started several years ago, after I returned to writing after many years not writing.

I was preparing my application for a project that was geared at helping develop writers through process exploration, through the foundation of daily practice, through a commitment to the work and to each other.

And that’s the first thing I wrote: I don’t know how I do what I do.

I was afraid to say it.  To admit that most of the time I don’t have a clue how I do something that seems so fundamental to who I am.  It seemed the most honest thing – and scary thing – I could say.

Old typewriter
Ripper paper
No items found.

I don’t know if I’m any closer to an answer than I was then, when I sat there looking at the blank screen, knowing what I should, what I must say, but fearful to admit my own short-comings. Surely, I thought, they won’t want me, not when I admit I don’t have a clue what my process is.

But they did.  And if I’ve discovered anything over the past year and a bit, it’s that the conversations, the exploration, the sharing is probably better than an answer.  I’ve been inspired not only both those in the group with me, but with the conversation happening on online about how we do what we do and how we become better.  So this is my attempt at continuing that conversation, continuing that exploration, and, essentially, writing my way to the answer.