I was asked a lovely question during a course I ran last week.
We were talking about storytelling, and the books, short stories, radio comedy, and other bits I've written, and it went like this:
How do you manage to come up with so many ideas?
It's a deceptively simple yet very smart question, which immediately set me thinking.
The conclusion I've come to is also simple, yet I hope smart.
Although it may not sound that way, as it runs counter to so much of modern life.
Maybe the answer is best expressed in the picture, which sums up the conflicts perfectly:
I took the shot while I was on a walk by the River Cam, because I thought it captured a lovely, peaceful, thoughtful moment...
Until you look closer.
See what I'm talking about?
For me, that's one of the great perils of modern life.
By the way, I make no judgment here.
She could be writing some important notes after having a moment of epiphany about some research, writing a book, the meaning of life, anything.
Plus, phones and their apps are designed to be addictive, and are very effective at it.
I feel it myself, that urge to check, check, check your phone, just in case you're missing something.
But! That sense of being subtly manipulated just makes me all the more determined to resist, an impulse I can strongly recommend.
There's always something trying to interrupt our thoughts in this busy modern world.
The bleep of a message, the warble of an email, the flashing icon of a social media alert...
Then there's work, and what's on the TV, and family pressures, plus so much else.
All of which conspire to erode our precious creative time and space.
Which brings me to the power of protecting it, and how I've written those books, stories, courses etc.
Colleagues and friends here in Cambridge have learnt there's little point trying to contact me between about 9 and 11.
Why? It's because of the cycle of work I've adopted, which does the trick beautifully for me.
I tend to get up early, usually around 6, and plough straight into whatever project I happen to be working on at that moment.
Writing a book, a lecture course, an article, whatever.
But I can only do about three hours at a stretch before I need to exercise my body and recharge my mind.
So then it's off for a walk or run, often by the river, no matter what the weather.
Yes, even -10 temperatures, and snow, as we had in that dreadful lockdown winter.
And although I take music to help me along (often cheesy 1980s pop, my era, of course!)...
At several points I'll slow my pace, turn the music off, and think.
Just live in the moment and think... think... think...
About what comes next in the book, the course, whatever.
Or what to tackle next, something new to try, enjoy and learn.
And that's usually the most critical moment of the day, my precious creative space.
Which, in summary, is why I've managed to do a few interesting things in my time.
Because I jealously guard my creative space.
If you have a need to achieve (excuse the rhyme!), then take it from me...
Find a way to secure yourself some creative space, and defend it with a passion.
You'll soon come to celebrate doing so.