In the 20 some years that I’ve been teaching writing, I’ve never seen it fail. Before the last session has ended one of my students will ask, “Should I write every day?” I barely have time to answer before fielding questions from others in the class. “Is it better to write in the morning?” “Do real writers set a number of word as a goal or do they measure the number of hours they spend at the computer?” “How many drafts do I have to do before I’, finished?” “I wake up in the middle of the night with a head full of ideas, and I have to get up and write. Am I normal?” “Do you believe I ought to outline before I write or just go with the flow?”
For my first two years as a writing mentor and teacher I was flattered by these questions. I answered them by smugly sharing my own writing schedule and sure-fire self-discipline techniques – until I realized I wasn’t being as helpful as I thought. What worked for me wasn’t necessarily going to work for everyone.
The search for the right way to write begins early in our careers. From the first writing book we read, we’re handed formulas for how to write. The more books we digest, the more certain we become that there’s a right way and a wrong way to get down to the mysterious business of writing. The people who author the how-to-write books don’t set out to mislead their readers. After all, the strategies they detail worked for them. Magic formulas sell books.
They don’t do much to help writers write. That’s because you are a unique individual, and you already know what to do. No one, not even a writing guru, understands your writing process as well as you. No amount of shoulds and oughts are going to make you a better writer – not if they run counter to your basic nature or the way your brain is hard wired. Emulating the daily habits of your favorite author won’t work either. What does work is finding out what works for you.
Adopt an attitude of experimentation. Try writing early in the morning. See what happens if you write late at night. Experiment with writing during your lunch hour. Write for long stretches. Write during your lunch hour. Play music. Write in silence. Outline. Wing it. Write every day. Don’t write every day. If you catch yourself thinking in terms of success or failure during this experimental phase, remind yourself that finding out what doesn’t work moves you one step closer to learning what does work.
Pay attention to what feels right for you. Some people can’t write until the sun goes down. After trying to write at different times during the day, I know that I feel best and am the most productive early in the morning. That is when my energy level is highest. Tune into your own energy levels and your ability to concentrate. Then block out your writing time accordingly. Schedule breaks and decide what to do during those breaks based on what your body and your mind need. Forcing yourself into a formula that doesn’t take your needs into account causes unnecessary suffering.
Consider the needs of your project. Writing doesn’t always happen in front of the computer. Some projects require more think time than others. Others demand library research or phone interviews. Short articles or chapters may insist on being written in one sitting. Other pieces of writing won’t gel unless you take a more leisurely pace and focus on developing stamina for the long haul. The different pieces of a long writing project often demand a different writing pace. Ignoring the nature of your material and its form wastes precious time and energy.
Adapt. What worked for you last year or last month might not work for you now. Aging, health and lifestyle changes can all force us to adapt the rigid ways we go about writing. For much of my career, I was most productive during two-day writing binges punctuated with one or two-day breaks between them. After I was rear-ended at a stoplight, I couldn’t sit at the computer for 12 hours straight. I’ve learned to maintain my focus even though I have to get up and walk around after a few minutes of writing. If you find yourself using language such as “only”, “always” and “have to,” take a deep breath and try something new.
Make allowances for your lifestyle. If you have young children, your writing schedule is going to be different from someone who doesn’t have children. If you have an office outside of your home, your writing habits aren’t going to be the same as those of a writer who works from a card table in the middle of the living room. When you compare your writing habits to those of someone with a totally different set of circumstances than your own, you sabotage your will to write.
Learn the difference between procrastination and self-care. Over the years, I’ve asked my writing students how they discern laziness from a well-needed rest. Their answers have been consistent. Procrastination feels low-energy, anxious, crappy, depressing or guilty. A break in the interest of balance feels energizing, relaxing, calm, refreshing or upbeat.
Find a way to measure your progress. Some writers work best when they set a number of words for themselves as a goal each day. Others use hours spent writing as a way to keep themselves moving toward a completed project. Not a few writers find daily word counts too inflexible. They set weekly goals for themselves. I alternate methods depending on whatever happens to be my current writing project. Keeping a log book with daily lists that track every writing-related thing I do, is useful for me when I’m feeling stuck.
Try keeping a process journal this month. Devote fifteen minutes a day to writing about what you did to further your writing goals and how you felt about it. Each week take a few extra minutes to read over your entries and list what you’ve learned about your writing process.