Passive vs. Active

As I continue research and planning for A New World, I have been reacquainted with a familiar sensation – that I am a passive observer in the story’s creation. I like this feeling; it stops me from asking myself the question ‘what happens next?’ Instead, as I’ve mentioned before, it feels like the story is unfolding as I think about it. Planning and writing at this stage feels to me as though I’m telling a story that already exists.

William James, a sociologist of religion, characterised religious experiences as being ineffable, noetic, transient and passive. In other words, that they are hard for the subject to describe, some knowledge or understanding is communicated, they are fleeting and they happen without being prompted. I am not suggesting that writing is a religious experience. But I am often reminded of William James when I try to explain the way I experience the first creative stage of writing. Although it is me that is sitting down and doing the work, it does feel very much as though it’s happening to me.

If the writing process feels passive, carrying a baby is even more so. Clearly, just as with writing, David and I can’t separate ourselves entirely from the creation of a baby. But from the moment I discovered I was pregnant, it has felt as though I have done almost nothing to make that tiny bundle of DNA grow into the sizeable baby that is now trying to punch out a window between my ribs.  

Of course, the baby has grown inside my body; she has been nourished by the food I’ve eaten, kept safely in place by the hormones that I’ve produced and been formed, in part, by my own DNA. However, I have little conception of my body being in charge.

We have made it into the final month of my pregnancy. Our daughter could arrive at any point in the next four weeks. As we wait, we are even more convinced of our passive role. It will be her who decides that she is ready. The ability to choose to sit down and get on with work (between baby-enforced naps) makes the passive creativity of writing is a welcome distraction.