Ever since I decided to give a creative career a go, I've run into two kids of people. One kind is the Warm Fuzzies and Itchy Toes. They hear my plans with great enthusiasm and suggest all sorts of ideas. Sure, the ideas may be kooky and impractical and just plain silly. We sit in the coffee shop and hatch all sorts of plots:
"Walking Zombies overrun the Earth!"
"A big boat sinks in an overrated explosion!"
"A reindeer stalks hunters with a machine gun!"
"Oh wait, a minute. Those are already taken! Damn!"
"So? In that case, every plot's already been taken. Put your own spin on it."
"How about boy meets girl, boy and girl are stranded on a tropical island---"
"---boy finds a treasure chest and becomes rich and girl kicks his butt and opens a spa and salon."
And we're off again. We feed off each other's energy and give each other permission to be as crazy as we want. No one judges (the Warm Fuzzy) and each person takes an idea and runs with it (the Itchy Toes). Creative energy thrives in such an environment, among the lattes and black coffees, the croissants and carrot cakes.
These are the friends I call at 2 AM and say, "Hey, what about..." And they forgive me. Even with the time zone differences.
Then there are the other ones, the Wet Blankets and the Cold Noses. We've all run into them, the naysayers of gloom and doom. Cold Noses are worse---they stick those noses into your creative life and try their best to freeze your enthusiasm. It's harder to ignore a Cold Nose than a Wet Blanket. You could always disregard a Wet Blanket's Pessimism, or at the very least, toss them in the Dryer for a few cycles. A Cold Nose is like getting your tongue stuck frozen on a flagpole. You can get it unstuck, but it's pretty damn painful.
Part II to come: How to Deal with Wet Blankets and Cold Noses.
All original writing and art copyright A. Dameron 2000-2010