Written by Tiane Davis
Most of the time, I feel like I have absolutely nothing to write about. This week, I wrote the full 600 words for this column and decided none of what I wrote was anything I would be proud to print. I had already been putting it off and was already late in finishing it when I decided to delete all of it and go to sleep.
When I came back to my blank Google Doc the next morning, I was reminded of an idea I had heard recently.
This summer, I watched a documentary about Nora Ephron called “Everything is Copy.” Ephron, a writer, journalist and filmmaker, played a major role in creating three of my all-time favorite rom-coms: “You’ve Got Mail,” “When Harry Met Sally” and “Sleepless in Seattle.” I could probably write another column just about Meg Ryan, who plays the female lead in all three. But I will save my Meg Ryan fangirl piece for another day.
The idea of the documentary was that in the life of a writer or filmmaker or any creator, everything is copy. Everything that we encounter in our lives is material from which we can create — every glance, every conversation, every laugh. Every leaf, blade of grass or worm — these are all little things that can hold meaning if we just give them the chance.
As a writer and person who loves to create, life becomes 10 times easier when I am told that anything in my life is worthy of being written about.
I don’t feel like the biggest part of the struggle is finding the right words to write about these things; I think the main obstacle — or at least for me — is figuring out how to be brave enough to share what they mean to me.
When I am in the mindset that everything is copy, I not only notice things I can write about, but I notice things in my life that can have meaning or bring me joy. I start to notice signs of a creator in everything I see, which gives me the motivation to create something in my own way — or even just laugh and smile a little more. I start to find meaning in things that I would otherwise overlook, which just makes life feel a little more beautiful and exciting.
When I am stuck in that place where I can’t seem to write a few short paragraphs, I probably have convinced myself that nothing is copy. I start to think that nothing I experience or do is worth mentioning to anyone, and I get stuck trying to think of an idea that is “interesting enough” or “heartwarming enough” for the people I am writing for. This way of thinking easily bleeds into other areas of my life sometimes. I might hide parts of myself out of fear that I am not good enough, or I find ways to complain about trivial things rather than find ways to enjoy them.
Every time I feel stuck in a bad mood or stuck at all in any way, it helps to tell myself that everything is copy. Everything I experience, good or bad, can be something I can find meaning in. I don’t think this means we need to glue rose-colored glasses on our faces and try to convince ourselves that our lives are perfect or that every possible painting we see in an art museum makes sense to us. To me, living life with the idea that “everything is copy” is another way of saying that we are allowed to find meaning in little things that might seem pointless to others. And we can be brave enough to share the meaning we find.
