Let's keep looking
Eduardo Gonzalez
·
June 22, 2021
·
8 min
Let's keep looking and get an idea. Suddenly, blank. My inspiration is gone, I look up around me. There's not much activity: only 7 other customers. This time, I look at them more carefully than before. To my right, an elderly couple shares a panini while reading different newspapers. A little closer to me, a boy listens to his grandfather tell a story; he’s intrigued. The boy’s parents are sharing a dessert. Finally, to my left, a student who could be my age seems to be working on a paper. It's interesting how he’s able to type without looking at the keyboard for so long. He’s been doing it for more than three minutes—longer than I can hold my breath.
I'm getting distracted.
I look back at my computer keyboard, but the same creative void that distracted me a few moments ago is still messing with me. Surrendered, I begin to type down everything that comes to mind, hoping that an interesting idea will fall on the page.
Without any luck, I reread the prompt of this story, hoping it will inspire me and let my imagination flow. What am I looking for? Why do I keep looking for it? What is it, anyway? Ironically, the only thing I’m currently looking for is inspiration.
Suddenly, I back away from my computer to review the sentence I just wrote. That’s it, “inspiration”. For the first time today, I have an idea worth exploring. I take a sip of my coffee, trying not to get burned again, and pull my computer closer to me.
Let's keep looking, I said to myself as I got back writing on my keyboard. Time to dig deeper and find some structure.
What if I turn my free-writing into a blueprint of what it looks like to search for an idea? I’m reading again everything I’ve typed so far. It looks like a train of thought with no clear destination. Still, I could find a way to turn it into a story. The story of a guy trying to write a paper. But unless I give it a clear structure, the story would be hard to follow.
I can break up the search for inspiration into 2³ chapters, each representing a different
state of the creative process. First: the quest for an idea. My character is willing to write but his mind is stuck. He’s probably sitting somewhere like a café. He free-writes, trusting that usable material will eventually come. Second: My character feels confident that he’s found an idea. However, he needs to polish and structure it coherently. He’s now halfway through his paper. Third: Hmm...
I give my coffee another sip and notice that the cup feels lighter—I'm almost done with it. I start getting up to go buy a new one. No, I thought. I'll write a bit more and then get coffee as a reward.
Let's keep looking, I mumbled as I sat back down on my chair. Let’s figure out the third chapter of the story.
My character has already settled on an idea and figured out most of the structure. What remains is for him to devise a way to land it with a great ending. Then, he just has to proofread his final version.
I brainstorm possible endings to my story. Nonetheless, nothing comes to mind. I’m blanking once again. To clear my head, I’ve decided to review my text so far. It’s a good opportunity to proofread and correct any mistakes. Surprisingly, I only had to correct a "3" that I mistyped as a "2".
Suddenly, a deafening noise grabs my attention. It comes from the back of the café, as if they were cleaning something... maybe the coffeemakers. It looks like they are about to close. I stand up in a hurry, asking for another cup of coffee before it’s too late.
As I get back to my computer, I gaze back at the elderly couple. Are they still reading the same newspaper? Just as I set my eyes on them, it finally strikes me. I got it, the ending I was looking for. I know how to finish this story. Towards the end, a flash of inspiration interrupts my character’s distraction—an event he’s been waiting for a while —and he’ll figure out a great ending to finally complete his story.
I stretch my legs under the table and my arms sideways, giving my new coffee a sip, mindless that it’s burning hot. Although my tongue starts hurting, I can’t stop; I must start writing, knowing that I can lose my inspiration at any moment.
I set my hands on the keyboard one last time and start typing the first sentence of my story: “Let's keep looking, I’m getting an idea...”
Let's keep looking and get an idea. Suddenly, blank. My inspiration is gone, I look up around me. There's not much activity: only 7 other customers. This time, I look at them more carefully than before. To my right, an elderly couple shares a panini while reading different newspapers. A little closer to me, a boy listens to his grandfather tell a story; he’s intrigued. The boy’s parents are sharing a dessert. Finally, to my left, a student who could be my age seems to be working on a paper. It's interesting how he’s able to type without looking at the keyboard for so long. He’s been doing it for more than three minutes—longer than I can hold my breath.
I'm getting distracted.
I look back at my computer keyboard, but the same creative void that distracted me a few moments ago is still messing with me. Surrendered, I begin to type down everything that comes to mind, hoping that an interesting idea will fall on the page.
Without any luck, I reread the prompt of this story, hoping it will inspire me and let my imagination flow. What am I looking for? Why do I keep looking for it? What is it, anyway? Ironically, the only thing I’m currently looking for is inspiration.
Suddenly, I back away from my computer to review the sentence I just wrote. That’s it, “inspiration”. For the first time today, I have an idea worth exploring. I take a sip of my coffee, trying not to get burned again, and pull my computer closer to me.
Let's keep looking, I said to myself as I got back writing on my keyboard. Time to dig deeper and find some structure.
What if I turn my free-writing into a blueprint of what it looks like to search for an idea? I’m reading again everything I’ve typed so far. It looks like a train of thought with no clear destination. Still, I could find a way to turn it into a story. The story of a guy trying to write a paper. But unless I give it a clear structure, the story would be hard to follow.
I can break up the search for inspiration into 2³ chapters, each representing a different
state of the creative process. First: the quest for an idea. My character is willing to write but his mind is stuck. He’s probably sitting somewhere like a café. He free-writes, trusting that usable material will eventually come. Second: My character feels confident that he’s found an idea. However, he needs to polish and structure it coherently. He’s now halfway through his paper. Third: Hmm...
I give my coffee another sip and notice that the cup feels lighter—I'm almost done with it. I start getting up to go buy a new one. No, I thought. I'll write a bit more and then get coffee as a reward.
Let's keep looking, I mumbled as I sat back down on my chair. Let’s figure out the third chapter of the story.
My character has already settled on an idea and figured out most of the structure. What remains is for him to devise a way to land it with a great ending. Then, he just has to proofread his final version.
I brainstorm possible endings to my story. Nonetheless, nothing comes to mind. I’m blanking once again. To clear my head, I’ve decided to review my text so far. It’s a good opportunity to proofread and correct any mistakes. Surprisingly, I only had to correct a "3" that I mistyped as a "2".
Suddenly, a deafening noise grabs my attention. It comes from the back of the café, as if they were cleaning something... maybe the coffeemakers. It looks like they are about to close. I stand up in a hurry, asking for another cup of coffee before it’s too late.
As I get back to my computer, I gaze back at the elderly couple. Are they still reading the same newspaper? Just as I set my eyes on them, it finally strikes me. I got it, the ending I was looking for. I know how to finish this story. Towards the end, a flash of inspiration interrupts my character’s distraction—an event he’s been waiting for a while —and he’ll figure out a great ending to finally complete his story.
I stretch my legs under the table and my arms sideways, giving my new coffee a sip, mindless that it’s burning hot. Although my tongue starts hurting, I can’t stop; I must start writing, knowing that I can lose my inspiration at any moment.
I set my hands on the keyboard one last time and start typing the first sentence of my story: “Let's keep looking, I’m getting an idea...”
Let's keep looking and get an idea. Suddenly, blank. My inspiration is gone, I look up around me. There's not much activity: only 7 other customers. This time, I look at them more carefully than before. To my right, an elderly couple shares a panini while reading different newspapers. A little closer to me, a boy listens to his grandfather tell a story; he’s intrigued. The boy’s parents are sharing a dessert. Finally, to my left, a student who could be my age seems to be working on a paper. It's interesting how he’s able to type without looking at the keyboard for so long. He’s been doing it for more than three minutes—longer than I can hold my breath.
I'm getting distracted.
I look back at my computer keyboard, but the same creative void that distracted me a few moments ago is still messing with me. Surrendered, I begin to type down everything that comes to mind, hoping that an interesting idea will fall on the page.
Without any luck, I reread the prompt of this story, hoping it will inspire me and let my imagination flow. What am I looking for? Why do I keep looking for it? What is it, anyway? Ironically, the only thing I’m currently looking for is inspiration.
Suddenly, I back away from my computer to review the sentence I just wrote. That’s it, “inspiration”. For the first time today, I have an idea worth exploring. I take a sip of my coffee, trying not to get burned again, and pull my computer closer to me.
Let's keep looking, I said to myself as I got back writing on my keyboard. Time to dig deeper and find some structure.
What if I turn my free-writing into a blueprint of what it looks like to search for an idea? I’m reading again everything I’ve typed so far. It looks like a train of thought with no clear destination. Still, I could find a way to turn it into a story. The story of a guy trying to write a paper. But unless I give it a clear structure, the story would be hard to follow.
I can break up the search for inspiration into 2³ chapters, each representing a different
state of the creative process. First: the quest for an idea. My character is willing to write but his mind is stuck. He’s probably sitting somewhere like a café. He free-writes, trusting that usable material will eventually come. Second: My character feels confident that he’s found an idea. However, he needs to polish and structure it coherently. He’s now halfway through his paper. Third: Hmm...
I give my coffee another sip and notice that the cup feels lighter—I'm almost done with it. I start getting up to go buy a new one. No, I thought. I'll write a bit more and then get coffee as a reward.
Let's keep looking, I mumbled as I sat back down on my chair. Let’s figure out the third chapter of the story.
My character has already settled on an idea and figured out most of the structure. What remains is for him to devise a way to land it with a great ending. Then, he just has to proofread his final version.
I brainstorm possible endings to my story. Nonetheless, nothing comes to mind. I’m blanking once again. To clear my head, I’ve decided to review my text so far. It’s a good opportunity to proofread and correct any mistakes. Surprisingly, I only had to correct a "3" that I mistyped as a "2".
Suddenly, a deafening noise grabs my attention. It comes from the back of the café, as if they were cleaning something... maybe the coffeemakers. It looks like they are about to close. I stand up in a hurry, asking for another cup of coffee before it’s too late.
As I get back to my computer, I gaze back at the elderly couple. Are they still reading the same newspaper? Just as I set my eyes on them, it finally strikes me. I got it, the ending I was looking for. I know how to finish this story. Towards the end, a flash of inspiration interrupts my character’s distraction—an event he’s been waiting for a while —and he’ll figure out a great ending to finally complete his story.
I stretch my legs under the table and my arms sideways, giving my new coffee a sip, mindless that it’s burning hot. Although my tongue starts hurting, I can’t stop; I must start writing, knowing that I can lose my inspiration at any moment.
I set my hands on the keyboard one last time and start typing the first sentence of my story: “Let's keep looking, I’m getting an idea...”
