I read a lot. I read so much that you know my head is absolutely brimming with ideas. But I can't always access them.
When I first read Michael Pollan years ago, it was his book, The Botany of Desire. I enjoyed the book, but I was troubled by a couple of things in it. Thing #1: He included his entire, apparently un-edited, chapter on the potato, and waited until the very end to reveal that the Monsanto GMO he had been talking about had already been pulled from the market. The guy could have at least given us a footnote or something earlier on, but then I suppose people wouldn't have bothered to read the chapter. It seemed a little disingenuous to me at the time, but then I also understand that not all GMO's have been pulled from the market. Thing #2 was the chapter on Cannabis, in which he described the artist's search for access to his own ideas. That chapter reminded me too much of my college boyfriend. It haunted me for weeks.
Orson Scott Card, a Morman, writes about the creative process, and wanting nothing, not even caffeine, to interfere with his brain's normal function.
I fall somewhere in between. Recreational drugs are absolutely not an option. But am I willing to give up coffee? No. And unfortunately decaf doesn't taste quite the same.
So how do I gain access to my ideas.
My husband and I suppose that time must be a factor. We believe that if I set aside the time every day to sit in front of my computer, or journal, and allow myself to do nothing but write, the ideas will come. Stephen King supports this in his book, On Writing. Ann LaMott supports it in Bird by Bird. I don't remember what Annie Dillard said about it in The Writing Life, but then, it's about time I started reading that book again.
