Ideas as Cats and Other Mysteries of Creativity

 I think of creativity as God’s river or waterfall into which I step. There is a torrent of ideas out there;  I just need to slow down, and step into the deluge.

Ray Bradbury, however, in his wonderful book on writing, Zen in the Art of Writing, refers to ideas as cats.

“I am accustomed to getting up every morning, running to the typewriter,” writing a short story, “and in an hour, I’ve created a world. I don’t have to wait for anyone. I don’t have to criticize anyone. It’s done. All I need is an hour, and I’m ahead of everyone. The rest of the day I can goof off. I’ve already done a thousand words this morning, so if I want to have a two or three-hour lunch, I can have it, because I’ve already beat everyone.

I never put up with anything from my ideas. As soon as things get difficult, I walk away.

That’s the great secret of creativity.

You treat ideas like cats; you make them follow you. If you try to approach a cat and pick it up, hell, it won’t let you do it. You’ve got to say, “Well, to hell with you.”

And the cat says, “Wait a minute. He’s not behaving the way most humans do.” Then the cat follows you out of curiosity: “What’s the matter with you that you don’t love me?”

Well, that’s what an idea is. See? You just say, “Well, hell, I don’t need depression. I don’t need worry. I don’t need to push. The ideas will follow me. When they’re off-guard, and ready to be born, I’ll turn around and grab them.”

(Particularly applicable for blogs, and poems, and stories and essays…)