ANDRE BEGIN

I was having one of those days that writers dread. Despite waking up to a full pot of coffee and a head full of ideas to embark on the day’s writing session, for some reason, the pieces just weren’t fitting together.

At the computer, the backspace button was getting used more than the rest of the keys combined. For a change of pace, I tried working from printed versions only to find the editor in my head particularly ruthless with the abundant strikeouts and red ink spilled everywhere, leaving my story seedlings looking like a crime scene.

I knew well enough that when it’s just not coming together, it’s OK to step away from the writing desk and take a break. Returning to the desk with a fresh pair of eyes often helps bring inspiration.

I decided to respond to the call of OCD and get some cleaning done. I turned on the TV to YouTube and tuned to a favourite playlist of music videos from the 1980s.

While scrubbing my toilet to a showroom finish, my mind drifted with the sights and sounds of my youth playing in the background. Then, out of nowhere, a story idea came to me. I washed my hands, grabbed my iPhone and dictated the idea into a note.

Shortly thereafter, after scooping the litter boxes with the attention to detail of a crime novel detective, another writing idea presented itself! I was back at the sink, washing my hands while repeating the idea over and over in the hope it didn’t escape, and then returned to my iPhone to dictate another note.

As ideas kept popping up, when I got to the point that I was doing less cleaning and taking more notes (not to mention washing my hands until they were almost raw), I knew I was on to something and that it was time to return to the desk.

What I discovered (quite by accident) was that replaying visual and auditory cues from that time seems to have an ability to recreate the creative energy of that era.

The 1980s hold a special place in my heart. In one decade, I jam packed my high school years, my university years and the beginning of my professional career. In that decade, I made the transition from a teenager to a young adult. I have so much for which to be thankful for that unforgettable decade which definitely shaped who I am today.

But more than that, it was the time when I started showing interest and identifying as an artist, with a rapidly growing appetite for art and creativity. It was the time when I was writing for the pure enjoyment of writing, aside from the essays I was producing for university, which frankly, I enjoyed too.

It was also the time before writing was the focal point of my career in the public sector.

Even though I was honoured to cut my teeth as a professional writer in that environment, the pieces produced were not necessarily for fun nor in my own voice as a creative. There was a protocol I was required to follow to stay within prescribed formulations when communicating with the public, with its specific rules, regulations and templates.

Writing for the office was focused and purpose-driven with little time or resources to experiment. After applying these rules daily for more than three decades, they became an integral part of my writing reflexes.

When I made the transition to full-time writer in retirement, I found that remembering that simpler time when I wrote for the pleasure of writing without quite so many rules and structure, helped rekindle the magic of writing for the fun of it.

By recalling a time of unlimited potential and fewer rules, I felt less encumbered, like I was carrying less baggage, better able to communicate what I wanted to share with the world and how I wanted to say it.

Before anyone starts getting the idea that my dwelling on music of the 80s might be a cry for help or a mid-life crisis waiting to happen, let me reassure you, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. In my defense, it’s not that I am actively trying to recapture my youth… though my arsenal of anti-aging creams and supplements might suggest otherwise.

Whenever I feel that I need some creative encouragement, stepping away from the writing desk and enjoying the music and videos of the 1980s along with its iconic stars and once-in-a-lifetime fashion statements, helps evoke the feeling and energy of a more creative time for me. The more I surround myself with music of that time, the more I feel the endless possibilities of art just as I felt back then.

As writers, sometimes half of the battle is to keep moving forward, making incremental progress on our beloved art form even when our own minds are our harshest critics. If a self-created time machine of images and music we remember fondly can help us escape and to project ourselves to a time when we felt a sense of limitless creative potential, whatever decade that represents for us, does it really matter what tool we use to reconnect with inspiration?

Sincere thanks for reading!
Have a great day,
André