Time, creativity, Bruce Springsteen

Listening to “Fresh Air” recently on NPR, I was surprised to find out that I actually had a lot in common with the celebrity guest, Bruce Springsteen.

Bruce Springsteen has been in the news a lot lately. He performed at one of the Obama inauguration events, then he was off to the Super Bowl half-time show (which I happened to miss because at the time I was weeping uncontrollably during “Revolutionary Road” - another story).  And I’d been thinking about him more than I usually do because he was in the Sunday New York Times, and - as should be apparent from my previous post - the Sunday New York Times is way more important to me than is healthy.

So he was on my mind in a way that he isn’t usually. I like his songs. I especially like some of the ones on “Nebraska.” For instance,  the one that goes “Mr. State Trooper…” I last heard it in a new way because it ended one of the episodes of “The Sopranos” perfectly with its eerie, spine-tingling whoop. But, really, I don’t know Bruce Springsteen - man or oeuvre - well. I brushed up against his songs on the radio the way you might nod your head to someone in your high school - only years later, when you reconnect with some person you used to know and you’re talking about old times and his name comes up, only then do you realize, my God, that guy was solid. Like, I would have thought Talking Heads, whatever I listened to back then - X, Suicidal Tendencies - those bands would have been enough to get me through, which just goes to show you.

Anyway, why I’m so thrilled about Bruce Springsteen now totally has to do with creative process. When Terri Gross asked him how he went about songwriting, he said he just fit it into his life. Whenever he had a spare half hour, hour or so.

I was stunned. The Bruce Springsteen. And he’s writing these songs a half hour here, a half hour there.

The more I thought about it, the more sense it made. Bruce Springsteen is probably really busy. He might be busier than I am - I mean, I have young kids and that just naturally makes a person think she’s busier than anybody else, but the truth is, I’m not doing any half-time shows.

Even before I heard Bruce Springsteen say that he got his songwriting in during his spare time I’ve been trying to see what writing I can get done in little blocks of time. Crumbs of time. I used to think I needed vast stretches - days, even. And that is why, before I had kids, when my weekends were nothing but lollygagging, Sunday New York Times, and movies stretching out before me on an endless horizon of free time, I was not that productive a writer.

What I’ve realized now is that it’s a mental game. I’m not doing my corporate job any more, I should have more time. Somehow, it feels like less time. It’s an illusion. There’s more or less time, but how much there is doesn’t matter that much and, actually, it doesn’t vary that much. If I can believe I can get some writing done in a small amount of time, I do. But if I don’t, I surf, I look helplessly at the pieces of mail asexually reproducing on our kitchen counter, I do something futzy and wasteful and throw up my hands. Really, it’s all about believing in half hours.