Consider the last time you felt inspired to write something creative. Then, try to remember what prompted this feeling. It might have been an image, a concept, or question; many writers refer to this as ‘the first spark’ of their creative process.

What’s often neglected, however, is how as soon as this initial ‘spark’ appears, it quickly vanishes of its own accord. Having worked with many student playwrights, and been lucky enough to have written a few plays of my own, I’ve found this unfortunate experience to be somewhat universal: one writer I worked with broke down in tears because nothing was coming to mind after three and a half hours of rigorous brainstorming. Creative stagnation can, of course, arise from a variety of issues – burnout and stress among them – but there are still plenty of ways to combat it. Here are a few of my recommendations below.

“No writing is wasted writing”

Firstly, you’ve got to establish your creative foundation. The ‘first spark’ for one of my plays stemmed from watching Bill Nighy’s excellent performance in David Hare’s Skylight. The condescension of the successful, miserly senior towards his former partner Kyra seemed like a great template to explore other forms of patronisation between loved ones. What if the two characters were, instead of lovers, a parent and child? Immediately, a scene sprung to my head: a celebrity father realises his daughter has gone off the rails at her university – after he has just praised her relentlessly on a talk show.

This worked well as a basis, not only because it provided plenty of real-life examples to draw upon, but it was also potent enough to generate ideas about the play’s wider narrative and characters. It also was a good starting block to return to in the event where I overwrought my thinking, reached a dead end and had to start all over again – which did end up happening. Repeatedly. Watching a variety of art, both theatrical and otherwise, will always help generate ideas; the trick is to interrogate the idea until you come across a sediment that you find dramatically interesting. In other words, it’s a game of trial and error.

“Everyone’s creative process is, fundamentally, different”

If you want to try a more structured approach, though, there are some exercises you can try. A favourite of mine is ‘character interrogation’. Start by compiling a list of random personal questions (lists are available online!), then answer them how you think a particular character would. Nothing is set in stone, but as a great teacher of mine once said: “No writing is wasted writing.” Speaking of which, try ‘freewriting’. It’s nice and simple: write down your first spark, and then keep writing for 5-10 minutes, without removing your pen from the page. The two possible outcomes are either (1) you end up with something hilariously nonsensical, or (2) you might just come up with something that’s useful and actually makes sense! Either way, you haven’t wasted your time.

Another way to expand upon an idea is by plain and simple eavesdropping – or, as my primary school teacher called it, ‘magpie-ing.’ When you’re in a public space, try to listen out for a line or interaction that sparks your interest, and note down anything unusual or unexpected. It doesn’t even have to be someone else’s conversation – my first play, called One Man Duet, had a scene that basically transcribed a conversation I’d had in class once. There is quite literally an entire genre of performance called ‘verbatim theatre’. Regardless of what genre you’re writing in, though, audiences recognise and appreciate authentic dialogue, and it gives you a collection of fun, out-of-context quotes that can immediately become fodder for banter.

I should note that everyone’s creative process is, fundamentally, different. What works for me isn’t necessarily going to work for you. I know some writers who rarely struggle with creative stagnation, and others who produce so many ideas they can’t choose which one to pursue. The unfortunate truth is that making art is always going to be messy. If all else fails, reach out. There are plenty of excellent writers’ groups in Cambridge, but if that’s a bit scary, ask a friend. Just ask them what they think, and trust that whatever inspired you will inspire them too. Trust in your process, and if this project doesn’t work, don’t worry. Eventually, one will.

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