A playwrite friend of mine showed me a book the other day which I thought was very interesting. I won’t plug the book directly as I haven’t read it yet, so don’t know if it’s worthy of that, but the concept was interesting.
Written by someone with years of experience counselling creative people, it listed and discussed the main types of anxieties that creative people feel about themselves and toward their creative process and work. My friend had just had one of those ‘oh yeah, that’s me!’ experiences reading it and from a quick look it seemed like almost any writer would.
He and I then got into a long discussion about the strangeness of our relationship to being creative, in that we all seem to struggle for external validation of one sort or another, we all doubt the worth of what we create and… well it’s a long list really!
Why is it that being creative is such a fraught thing?
And ironically – at least in my mind – writers also have to have a contrasting touch of arrogance. If we didn’t, surely we’d never think other people would be interested in our scratchings.
As you can tell, I’m still mulling this one over…