There are times when a writer does not have much to write but must not stop the process of writing because when he does that the creative juices might stop flowing and any possible writing might just dry up in the pipeline itself. Of course, writing seems to be an easy process of stringing the words together in a manner universally comprehensible to the users of the language used. To many of those who know how to put across a point in a fairly accurate manner, good writing is ‘impressive writing’. Differently put, to them it’s just the art of putting together high-sounding words in good order. To better writers, it’s about a good idea put in words that fit in together in rhythmic harmony and make word-music together.
But I guess a writer is continuously struggling with the language and there is always a certain amount of tussle involved. If you are too comfortable with the language and do not share a tense relationship with your words, chances are you are not exactly a great writer. Being too comfortable with one words does not mean superior command of the language but indicates a very trite use of language. In such cases, often there is no novelty of idea or expression or both. Good writing is something of a reinvention of the world, or the creation of an altogether new world. This world could be a parallel literary universe and could also be just another planet of unique ideas or unique amalgam of commonplace ideas.
Any writer would tell you that sometimes it’s not about what you write but about continuing to write. And at times the simple process of writing gets a little too difficult. If you have never come across such a phase, you are yet to fully ripen as a writer because experiencing the block – call it Writer’s Block, if you like – is an important stage in the development of a writer. Not that all those who have experienced it are ‘complete writers’ in any sense because there are many such writers who are more often ‘blocked’ than writing.
Most of the time we want to write something that’s of some importance but the fact is that a writer evolves more through writing things that are of far lesser significance or consequence than he would like. And then without his realizing he produces a work of sheer genius. The genius, therefore, is often born out of the mundane and the mediocre. One walks into brilliance instead of the brilliance striking one like lightening.