Writers and Writing
Over on SFF.NET, a fellow writer is talking about Louise Doughty's
A Novel in a Year. I have not read the book, but from the writer's description it sounds sensible in that it boils down to "butt in chair" and then there are a lot of exercises to get a beginning writer going.
I was thinking about the writing thing this morning on the dog walk. My idea is that all the various (and sensible, and true) exhortations to "make a writing hour" or "butt in chair" are all saying, "Make a habit."
Habits can be self-sustaining--or (in the case of stuff like daily exercise in hot weather) take far less effort if we already have that mental slot in our brain's daily game plan.
For some of us, writing became a habit before we even knew it was writing. We thought of it (or those around us named it as) scribbling in notebooks--wasting time and paper--doodling little stories. Whatever. Even if it wasn't very good, it was writing, and we liked it at the time. So the habit became ingrained, and the problem ever afterward was fighting off all the other crowd of demands of daily life in order to get back to it. It wasn't just habit, it was our activity of choice.
For some the act of writing isn't as pleasurable. rachelmanija has a vivid icon about staring at the screen until drops of blood appear on one's forehead. The pleasure for that writer seems to come in achievement--in having written. There is no right or wrong here--nobody is less or more of a writer because of their process or motivation--these are all different brain patterns leading to producing these little codes on paper that other people may choose to decode.
I think that the effort to make writing a habit seems to be the crux of the matter. For some it is just not going to be easy--but they still experience that impetus to communicate with others through writing.
It's interesting to me while reading blogs and online journals how many ways people find to get that habit made. The one that surprised me most on first encounter was the idea of writers leaving their own home to go to a noisy place like Starbucks in order to write. I thought you went to those places to socialize, or to be seen. Especially when folks would talk about noisy people at other tables--gum smacking--drifting cigarette smoke--horrible music on the speakers--crowds. Why would someone put up with all that in order to do something they could more easily do at home? I asked in a group discussion at a con, and the first answer I got was "I have no space of my own at home." Then, "My house is even noisier, and constant interruptions and demands." (This from a parent. Several other parents chimed in fervently.) I got that. The space at home thing I kind of understood--that is, I grew up in an overcrowded house and didn't have space of my own until I was a grownup. But at an early age my head was already accustomed to compartmentalizing, so I could be sitting in a noisy, smoky environment with the TV blaring so everyone raised their voices to be heard over it, and I'd be oblivious. (Sometimes that was inadvertent and got me into serious trouble.)
If compartmentalizing doesn't come in your brain hardwiring, then I guess one has to program their brain, that is create those compartments, and one of the ways is by changing physical spaces. Li8brary--Starbucks--B&N--somewhere away from the temptations, or the demands, of home. Somewhere one can sit down and say, "Okay, when I am here, this is what I do: write."
For others it's a time that everyone agrees at home is "writing time"--only interrupt if the house is burning down, or equivalent emergency. For some, the agreement has to be with oneself. "I can watch my favorite show--go out dancing--get together with the gang--after I get two hours done on my project." If that agreement--with others, with oneself--is observed, one moves closer to habit. It gets easier.
A third approach is the short term goal, which is maybe why NaNoMo and other similar programs are so popular? A group works in community to cheer one another on to reach a given goal. You know you're going to grab every extra moment of your day during this defined time in order to produce a novel. I think, after one has sold, this translates out to some writers really wanting and needing contract deadlines.
Does that make sense?
A Novel in a Year. I have not read the book, but from the writer's description it sounds sensible in that it boils down to "butt in chair" and then there are a lot of exercises to get a beginning writer going.
I was thinking about the writing thing this morning on the dog walk. My idea is that all the various (and sensible, and true) exhortations to "make a writing hour" or "butt in chair" are all saying, "Make a habit."
Habits can be self-sustaining--or (in the case of stuff like daily exercise in hot weather) take far less effort if we already have that mental slot in our brain's daily game plan.
For some of us, writing became a habit before we even knew it was writing. We thought of it (or those around us named it as) scribbling in notebooks--wasting time and paper--doodling little stories. Whatever. Even if it wasn't very good, it was writing, and we liked it at the time. So the habit became ingrained, and the problem ever afterward was fighting off all the other crowd of demands of daily life in order to get back to it. It wasn't just habit, it was our activity of choice.
For some the act of writing isn't as pleasurable. rachelmanija has a vivid icon about staring at the screen until drops of blood appear on one's forehead. The pleasure for that writer seems to come in achievement--in having written. There is no right or wrong here--nobody is less or more of a writer because of their process or motivation--these are all different brain patterns leading to producing these little codes on paper that other people may choose to decode.
I think that the effort to make writing a habit seems to be the crux of the matter. For some it is just not going to be easy--but they still experience that impetus to communicate with others through writing.
It's interesting to me while reading blogs and online journals how many ways people find to get that habit made. The one that surprised me most on first encounter was the idea of writers leaving their own home to go to a noisy place like Starbucks in order to write. I thought you went to those places to socialize, or to be seen. Especially when folks would talk about noisy people at other tables--gum smacking--drifting cigarette smoke--horrible music on the speakers--crowds. Why would someone put up with all that in order to do something they could more easily do at home? I asked in a group discussion at a con, and the first answer I got was "I have no space of my own at home." Then, "My house is even noisier, and constant interruptions and demands." (This from a parent. Several other parents chimed in fervently.) I got that. The space at home thing I kind of understood--that is, I grew up in an overcrowded house and didn't have space of my own until I was a grownup. But at an early age my head was already accustomed to compartmentalizing, so I could be sitting in a noisy, smoky environment with the TV blaring so everyone raised their voices to be heard over it, and I'd be oblivious. (Sometimes that was inadvertent and got me into serious trouble.)
If compartmentalizing doesn't come in your brain hardwiring, then I guess one has to program their brain, that is create those compartments, and one of the ways is by changing physical spaces. Li8brary--Starbucks--B&N--somewhere away from the temptations, or the demands, of home. Somewhere one can sit down and say, "Okay, when I am here, this is what I do: write."
For others it's a time that everyone agrees at home is "writing time"--only interrupt if the house is burning down, or equivalent emergency. For some, the agreement has to be with oneself. "I can watch my favorite show--go out dancing--get together with the gang--after I get two hours done on my project." If that agreement--with others, with oneself--is observed, one moves closer to habit. It gets easier.
A third approach is the short term goal, which is maybe why NaNoMo and other similar programs are so popular? A group works in community to cheer one another on to reach a given goal. You know you're going to grab every extra moment of your day during this defined time in order to produce a novel. I think, after one has sold, this translates out to some writers really wanting and needing contract deadlines.
Does that make sense?