Being overly analytical in the moment of creation can, indeed, stifle the work of a writer. Throughout the writing of a first draft one needs to remain immersed in the thrall of the idea, a little crazed, un-self-censoring, almost childlike in the belief that every expression is interesting. Later there is time to scrutinize, judge, edit. But how does one retain such a state of creative obliviousness over time? How does a writer shut out what the world appears to want in the way of different content, different methods?

My answer is: You do it aggressively. You close the door to your work room. You turn off the internet and smart phone. You tell yourself the world does not need you for an hour or two or four (we are all more replaceable than we think). You sip your favorite beverage, blur your eyes, breathe more slowly, and summon the dream. If you stay the course, it happens, over time you begin to speak in tongues…In other words you develop a ritual akin to what some cultures do to summon the spirits of ancestors. After a while you must emerge from your trance and return to the world that wants things of you, the world that may assault you with its demands to be other than you are. You deal with that part of your life as well as you can. But the next day you return at the same time to your work room (play room?). You close the door again and turn off the electronics. Again you blur your eyes and breathe deeply. And it happens once more, maybe more quickly this time, images flickering, threads of sound swelling. The dream may be brighter now, more colorful. And once again you find you can summon what you scarcely knew was there.