Writing, like life, is tempered by the ebb and flow of circumstances, the ups and downs of our humanity.  It’s wonderful when many ideas flood my computer screen.  Perhaps somebody shares details about her day and I use one element of that to further my plot.  One time, in order to finish a chapter, I borrowed the punch line from a friend’s joke. It became the perfect conclusion to a conversation between two characters.

Occasionally, however, creative drought either withers the root of an idea or leaves me blank.  There have been times when I couldn’t conjure a clear image of a person I needed to describe. Instead of just sitting there, I stopped writing and turned back to research.  There’s no way to underestimate the richness of digging into original sources when I’m stuck.  By reading letters between long departed members of my extended family, the people came back to life.  Their situation, mood, priorities and hopes suddenly brought color to an otherwise monochromatic understanding of their pioneer lives.  Inevitably, after turning to original sources for inspiration, I came across something that caught my attention and added a new layer of depth to my pursuit.  Soon, I was back on track and my work flowed again.

It’s not just the moments of enlightenment, however, that contribute to good writing.  There’s also great value in information I do NOT find.   By comparing what’s NOT there against my expectations, I can draw truly useful conclusions. Let’s say the historical character I’m writing about lived at a given place, but I don’t exactly know when.  If a dated report or census fails to list him, that tell me something valuable.  Maybe I still don’t know when he DID live there, but I definitely know when he did NOT!  Coupled with other findings, this fact can help me form a timeline for someone in the distant past.

That’s how writing is like life.  By realizing I can learn from both the missing and the evident, the desert and the oasis, I’ve not been deterred, sidelined or tempted to give up.