Nameless Creatures and Quest-less heroes

I have been waiting for someone to tell me what to do.

Every time I walk into my office there are nameless creatures and quest-less heroes wandering about anxiously waiting for me to give them purpose.

“You created me this far,” they cry. “What will you have me do? I can’t stay locked in your bottom drawer forever, you know.”

Setting my tea down on the desk I turn and sigh at the lot of them blinking expectantly at me.

“Yes, I know. But I have to have time to think. I have read all these books to help me figure out how to get you out of this office and into the world but nothing is clicking. I have to find my own voice – our voice – my own style of writing. Honestly, of getting you out of my head!”

Reluctantly, they all clamber back into the drawer and close it behind them – but not all the way of course – and I return to my desk and tea.

Surveying the multitude of books I’ve been reading to help me get what’s in my head onto paper and out the door, I’m suddenly realizing I’m not sure my brain works that way. I don’t think I can learn what I need from a book. They are certainly trying to help, but it’s one writers way that’s worked for them.

But I’m me.

I need to learn my own way. From myself. I’ve been trying all these various techniques and methods only to feel I’m headed in the wrong direction. So I find I’m right back where I started.

The life of a writer is all about self-motivation. No one is going to tell me what to do next – no matter how badly I want that to be true. I need to see my world, believe in it, enter it, discover it, then write about it.

I think instead of cooping up my nameless creatures and quest-less heroes I should invite them out and let them wander around and inspire me.

After all, who else is going to understand the adventure better than my own thoughts?