For Fact's Sake: Writer's cramp vs writer's block

By Murray Stewart

The For Fact’s Sake columns are – according to Google research and the Duck ’n Fiddle’s archives – based in truth.

Hélène Truter, who shares this space with me, recently started her Sugar & Spice column with: I’m staring at a blank screen. I have to find a topic for my column…

Well, Hélène, you’re not alone. Even internationally acclaimed columnists will sometimes encounter that vacuum. They/we first need to find an interesting topic, then hopefully write about it in a way that prevents readers from dozing off in the third paragraph. Well, we’re about to launch into paragraph three, so seatbelts please – things are about to get a bit weird.

One lady, who inexplicably didn’t have this ‘blank screen’ vacuum, was a certain Mrs Pearl Curran from St Louis, Missouri. She was a regular housewife and mom – not a scholarly type at all. She had no interest in history, seldom read a book, and knew nothing about the subtleties or nuances of writing anything longer than a grocery list. Why would she?

But with no literary aspirations at all, and a family/pets/household to run, all that changed dramatically one July evening in 1913. Despite her disdain for mediums and spooky spiritualism, she was persuaded to take part in a séance. “It’s all codswallop anyway,” she scoffed.

Then, with her hand on the Ouija board, she spelled out the name ‘Patience Worth’– someone she’d never heard of. But from that moment on, Pearl and the phantom Patience – whoever or whatever she was – became close friends.

Through her writings – dictated telepathically to her by Patience – she penned a set of historical novels over the next few years in a variety of period styles. They ranged from The Sorry Tale, set in the time of Christ, to Hope Trueblood, a romantic novel from the 19th century which received wide acclaim.

One critic wrote: “Definite and clear-cut characterisation, good dialogue and arresting runs of subtle expression.” I’m sure we’re all delighted that she can arrest her runs. Expressively.

Anyway, she was so prolific, she’d often flipflop seamlessly between two or more books – one chapter at a time – depending on what Patience dictated to her. She not only wrote novels and poems, but would reply in period prose to a range of subjects put to her by historians, scientists, the clergy and a pole-dancer (the latter unverified).

However, her remarkable knowledge of language and style led to her most highly acclaimed work, Telka, a novel set in medieval England. It was written flawlessly in ‘ye olde English’ of the time, which Pearl had never studied nor had any interest in at all. Who would, really?

The intelligence and wit of the elusive Patience Worth continued to baffle psychologists for years, but to Pearl she was just a spiritual soulmate who pitched up regularly to recount fascinating tales of days gone by in far-off lands.

Anyway, either Shakespeare or Zappa wrote, You gotta get out of it before you get into it, and I’m sure different wordsmiths have their own dubious methods of seeking inspiration from the Muse, some of which – I’ve been told – actually work. But artificially stimulated creativity aside, wouldn’t it be wonderful if Patience would just pop in now and again for coffee and an afternoon of dictation?

She would no doubt come up with an interesting topic for our next column – instead of being the topic of interest in this one. So, if anyone is having a séance soon, please let our editor know. We writers need to find out more about Patience. Does she dictate in Afrikaans as well? Can we maybe Skype her? Is there an Ouija board app?

Now, for our younger readers, the term ‘writer’s cramp’ in the headline (Lat: scribulatis agonium) refers to the hand-pains experienced from scribbling frantically for extended periods while clutching a pen or pencil. Remember them? They’re those long, thin things with a point at one end where the words come out.

Oops, gotta go! Screen’s full, and my laptop needs sharpening.