Unearthing Your Creative Origin Story
Unearthing Your Creative Origin Story
How do we define ourselves by evolving from our circumstances instead of trapped in them?
Origin stories matter. Every superhero has one, and so does every creative individual. To be clear, we’re all creative. Creativity is a natural part of the human experience. We engage creativity in how we parent our children, decorate for Super Bowl parties, and even for the spreadsheets we design at the office. No matter what your thing is, be it line dancing, or birdwatching, you’re creative in some capacity.
But not everyone needs a creative origin story. Origin stories are all about context and trajectory. Origin stories relate the driving forces and circumstances (context) that compel someone to pursue an extraordinary course of action (trajectory). For example, after young Bruce Wayne’s parents were murdered by an underworld lowlife, he didn’t pursue a secure, stable career that would keep him safe and sound up at stately Wayne Manor. Hell no. He said “I’m gonna be the goddamned Batman!” Or something to that effect. Not necessarily the easiest life, mind you. The guy had to excavate a freaking cave beneath his home. And have you checked out his pantheon of villains? Oy vey! The point is circumstances drove him toward the extraordinary.
If you’re pursuing a creative life, one in which you push the capacity of your creative powers to their limits, you’re pretty extraordinary (whether you know it or not). But this isn’t always easy. Therefore, you might want to consider your own creative origin story in order to provide some context and trajectory for yourself.
As a pulp fantasy author who toils almost entirely in obscurity, I’m subject to a lot of “why the hell am I doing this?” moments. The deeper I chase my creative vision into the recesses of imagination, the more tenuous my connection becomes with the conventional world. Over the last few years, I’ve started fumbling through what was once a pretty solid career in a respectable field. More and more of my energy is devoted toward pursuing absurd flights of fancy as opposed to climbing the rungs of the corporate ladder.
Amidst this self-reflective malaise I began unearthing my own creative origin story to provide some context and trajectory. What follows are the three guiding questions I used for this exercise (NOTE: for purposes of brevity, I’m sharing a highly abridged creative origin story).
WHERE DID MY CREATIVITY COME FROM?
Looking back, I realize that most of my earliest recollections are infused with some sort of fantasy. For young H. Prescott, spaceships and dinosaurs weren’t just a point of interest, they were things to obsess over. Everything had a story, and that story had to be fantastic. This included many of my toys, which took on personas directly related to the outlandish backgrounds I’d built for them. Of course, it’s well documented that children are naturally imaginative. I’m not sure if I was out of the ordinary, but I recall the pervasive notion that there was some unseen presence which fed my appetite for fantasy. I know, it sounds either a little creepy or like I needed some therapeutic intervention. In recent years, I’ve come to think of this presence as my inner weirdo, and it’s still hanging around. The point is that this driving force, whether intrinsic or extrinsic, is what drove me toward world building and storytelling, even at a tender age.
HOW DID MY CREATIVITY EVOLVE?
Awkwardly. I’d like to tell you I was one of those cool, artsy kids. But no, not even close. I was withdrawn, socially inept, and an outsider. Sure, I had friends. But there was always the sense that they were “normal”, and I was…? Mom noticed and had concerns. I recall her taking me to specialists or signing me up for various activities to foster some positive socialization. As far as I was concerned, I just wanted time to myself for reading and daydreaming. Growing a bit older, I quickly latched onto the works of J.R.R. Tolkien, Madeleine L’Engle, and Stephen King. And don’t even get me started on Star Trek and the Star Wars movies. Most of my creative drive was focused on sprawling inner dramas that played out in the theater of my mind. But my introduction to Dungeons & Dragons helped me to push my creativity outward as I became an aspiring dungeon master. Then with my immersion into the semi-sordid world of rock music, I didn’t want to just listen to my favorite bands, but to create original music (which I achieved through some pretty awful garage bands). I even started earning praise from teachers and professors for my writing ability and storytelling. As a budding creative, I had arrived!
WHAT BECAME OF MY CREATIVE IMPULSES?
Here’s where my origin story becomes a cautionary tale. For with the onset of adulthood, my trajectory shifted. There was more emphasis on fitting into the confines of a conventional life and job. I stopped listening to heavy metal and progressive rock. And while my interest in fantasy never entirely disappeared, it was pushed to the fringes of my attention. There would be time for all that stuff later, I told myself. Over the next 20 years, I transformed from a creator to a consumer. In short, I became a real bore. And the inner weirdo I referenced earlier had vacated the premises of my dwindling imagination. It wasn’t until the precipice of middle age that my creative drives reawakened. But decades of atrophy took their toll. To my dismay, I couldn’t just pick up where I’d left off. It took years to re-acclimate myself to the science fantasy and rock & roll sensibilities that had defined me in my formative years. I started re-reading the old classics, listening to my old favorites, and writing a lot of embarrassing crap (who are we kidding, I’m constantly writing a lot of embarrassing crap). But I was fortunate during this period to find like-minded partners in the Underlords Universe who wanted to pursue similar creative endeavors and to marry someone who is entirely supportive of my imaginative obsessions. And guess what…my inner weirdo is back, feeding me new ideas.
There you have it, my creative origin story. And while it’s been a valuable exercise, there are still some pain-points from this reflection. While I recognize that my drive for creative fantasy has its roots in my early childhood, there’s also the realization that I squandered what might have been the most creatively productive portion of my life. Because of this, I feel like a late bloomer or that I’m always several steps behind where I should be.
On the other hand, my creative origin story has assured me that no matter what, I’m doing what I was built to do. There’s a lot of comfort in this, even during the difficult moments of being creative. Hopefully the exercise of writing your creative origin story will be just as valuable for you. Feel free to use the questions above or come up with new ones. The point is, connect with your inner creative!
Meet H. Prescott Lemon
H. Prescott Lemon is a Midwestern pulp novelist with a passion for fantasy, horror, and sci-fi. He’s a part of the band, Underlords of the Overworld, and brings their stories to life musically and in written word.
Explore the Underlords Universe
Today’s Tune
 | A guest post by
|