Opinion

Anita Robinson: Creativity is a process that cannot be rushed

"In order to write, I must first create the ambience for it..." 
"In order to write, I must first create the ambience for it..."  "In order to write, I must first create the ambience for it..." 

It’s Saturday morning, sunny and mild, the first properly Spring-like day we’ve had.

The buds are fattening on my six white cherry trees, the camellia bush by the window is covered in bright pink rosettes and the bloomin’ starlings are back again this year, nesting in the down spout.

It’s a day for getting in the car and going somewhere nice. Only I can’t, because Saturday’s the day I write the Irish News piece and I haven’t an idea in my head. I drive down for the papers thinking I ought to have walked, but it’s all uphill on the way back and it’s not that warm. I’ll have a cup of coffee, a quick scan of the weekend supplements and buckle down to the task.

While re-parking the car, I notice that the shrubs along the side of the garden are being throttled by briars, thick as ships’ hawsers. Hmmm…… better tackle those before the shrubs start greening over.

I go and hoke in the garage for the big secateurs, the Loving Spouse’s old gardening gloves, pull on a big awful jumper and, wrists aching, begin hacking at their sinewy stems. They are singularly resistant and reward my puny efforts by getting tangled in my hair, tearing at the big awful jumper and inflicting several scratches which bleed profusely. I abandon the job and retire to the house to dab TCP on my wounds. I’ll have a cup of coffee and make a start on writing.

In order to write, I must first create the ambience for it. This consists of switching on three television sets – BBC News 24 in the kitchen, Radio Ulster in the bedroom and, in the living room, Classic FM.

Burbling quietly in the background, Classic FM is the perfect accompaniment to creativity. It’s beige aural wallpaper with a repeating pattern. I absorb the music rather than pay it any attention. I recognise nearly everything, but would be hard put to it to name a composer. Frequent visits to the kitchen for crisps, nuts, chocolate, fruit – and more coffee, reveal on BBC News 24 that the third world war appears to be starting. Naturally I must pause and watch, since it looks as if the apocalypse is imminent, instigated by a Ronseal-finish world leader – and there’ll be no Irish News on Tuesday which may be a blessing, because I can’t think of anything to write.

Suddenly, it’s way past lunchtime. I fancy a bacon butty, but instead, do a big fiddly salad because I’ve gained two pounds this week. After assembling the repast, I list what needs shopping for on Monday, de-crumb the spoon drawer and discover a half-load of unwashed washing in the futility room.

Economy dictates that I change my sheets and towels to make up a full load. Best do that after lunch. Then I’ll have a cup of coffee and make a start on the writing. Oops! Look at the time! And I’m still wrestling with a wet king-sized duvet cover. It’s Grand National Day, and though I don’t like horses, (unpredictable creatures at both ends,) I can’t NOT watch the Grand National. One must keep abreast of popular culture.

I’ve never had a flutter in my life, apart from a staff charity sweepstake. We won a Ford Fiesta between six of us – which was difficult. My share was the equivalent of the rear wheel on the passenger side and a bit of the boot. But that’s another story……

Two more coffee-lubricated but uninspired hours pass. I even try the old creative-writing workshop trick, ‘scribble continuously for three minutes whatever comes into your head’. Believe me, you wouldn’t want to read it. Despite the fact I’m not hungry, I open the emergency door of the freezer and microwave myself a convenience dinner. It’s as little to my taste as Saturday night’s woeful television schedule. I’m hyper with a surfeit of sugar, fat, starch – and caffeine. Now it’s 11pm and Vivaldi’s ‘Four Seasons’ is coming round for the third time on Classic FM. “Pack it in,” I think. “Set the alarm for six and you’ll still meet the deadline……”