Things Which Are Not Writing

There are a lot of things a writer can do which are not writing. Here's my example list:

• browsing Facebook "just for a minute to see what everyone's been up to in the ten or so hours that have elapsed since I went to bed"
•  checking e-mail
• stopping whatever else I might be doing (which might in some rare cases actually be writing) to switch to the e-mail client when it pops up a "new message" bubble in the corner of the screen
• arranging bookmarks in my browser
• daydreaming about joining SFWA
• reading other writers' blogs

I will stare until you feed me.

There are many other things I do in the morning which are not writing, but these are just a few that happened today. Other things which are necessary but are also not writing include doing laundry, cooking lunch, and feeding the cat. I don't feel I can safely cut out those activities, but some of those in the bullet list can definitely go.

Ironically, in reading through some other writing blogs I came up with the inspiration to write this entry. So how do you know if you're just time-wasting or building up a storehouse of future plot/poem/blog ideas?

When I figure it out, I'll let you know. But here's a guideline: if your activities (aside from the purely necessary ones) aren't feeding your writing, you've probably wandered off the track.

Don't be afraid of the blank page! Once you start writing into it, it's not blank any more! Go! Go forth and create, my little ones! The world is yours for the taking!

Ahem. Keep an eye on your own activities. Set up a schedule for yourself if you have to. It works for some people. But be aware of when you've strayed. And don't, repeat don't, beat yourself up if you do wander. It happens. We're human. And you're allowed. Just catch yourself at it and redirect. Back to work, little creative mind. No more Twitter for you. Put down the list of "Most Interesting Stuff That Doesn't Matter But Will Make Your Co-Workers Laugh Their Butts Off" links from Facebook and open the word processor. Take out the notebook. Scrawl something into your smartphone. Just write. That's what writers do, after all.

Flow and Answering Your Own Questions

When I write page 1, I don't know what page 2 is going to be like. I write the book to know what's inside. - Julian Green

Particularly when I write during National Novel Writing Month, I tend to start a story without a clear idea of where I'm going. I get the feeling I've written about this topic before in here, but I'm going to continue anyway. I'm with Julian Green: I write the story to find out what happens. During NaNoWriMo I generally reach a point where I need a plan. The story faucet, up until that point flowing freely, begins to taper off until it becomes a trickle. Then I need to start with the outlining. Where am I going, and why am I in this handbasket? Who's in this story? What important things are going to happen? What needs to happen before I can write The End?

In five years of participating in NaNoWriMo, I don't think I've ever actually written The End. My story may wind itself up, but it's never a total beginning-to-end manuscript on the first of December.

But on my original point: I write to see what happens. That's a lot of what gets me through NaNoWriMo. I want to succeed, I want the purple progress bar, and I want the certificate. I want the satisfaction of having a 50,000 word manuscript in my hand, that tangible, meaty sound it makes when I drop it - thunk - onto my desk. But day-to-day, one of the primary motivators is the same as it is when I'm reading someone else's work: what's going to happen next? Will Sarah and Aristotle escape from the beast? Will Dobroy ever give back that oh-so-important chess piece he took? Can the robot convince the two alien races to live in harmony? Will Hypatia stop being crazy? In order to find out, I had to write. And all of those questions have answers now. Each of them lives in a NaNo manuscript I've completed (except for the first one, which got a sequel of sorts in 2008, bringing its total to 76,000 words).

If you create a story you want to read, you're forced to write it until it reaches an end, or forever wonder what might have happened. Go create a question and answer it. Or wait until November and then do it. I'll meet you there.

Two Worlds: Longhand v Digital

This weekend my gaming group created characters for the Dresden RPG, a game based on the Harry Dresden novels by Jim Butcher. I spent a little time Sunday scratching out a more in-depth history for my character, written first-person in the style of the Dresden novels.

I decided to write it longhand in one of my black notebooks. There's something different about the act of creation when writing with a pen or pencil as opposed to typing on a keyboard. When I first started writing, I only felt comfortable writing longhand in a notebook. I wrote ten chapters of a novel in a college notebook, largely in closed study hall in high school. I've yet to find those sheaves of paper, written in ball-point pen, full of scratch-outs and notes in the margins. It didn't occur to me to do my writing on DeskMate or any other word processing software for a while. Once I did, I produced a couple pages of a story where my characters went their own way against my wishes. I abandoned that story, and it set a bad precedent for writing on the computer.

Nowadays I do most of my writing on the computer. The speed is far greater, and I can move text around with a lot more ease than I can on paper. Still, there's something to be said for the old-fashioned method: the choice of most comfortable or 'lucky' pen, the ability to write notes in the margin (you can do this with most word processor software these days, but it's not the same), or do sketches of logos or characters or whatever on the page. I'm big on the tactile senses when it comes to writing.

I think I produce different kinds of writing when I choose to utilise the handwritten method rather than the digital. Both have their merits. I tried writing my National Novel Writing Month novel longhand a few years ago. I got about three days in before I realised that there just wasn't enough time, and I was threatening myself with serious writer's cramp. So for novelling marathons, stick with the digital, I say. But give the old-fashioned a chance too: it can be as simple as picking up a cheap spiral-bound notebook and a pen (I recommend gel pens - ballpoints wear me out too quickly - and find a comfy place to write. You can write just about anywhere with pen and paper, and your notebook doesn't need a power brick or a battery to ensure its continued functioning. You might find your writing style changing. You might find you're reminded of school essays and hate it. However you find it, give it a try this week. And share your experiences here if you do. I'd love to know how it goes.

On Discipline

Discipline is solitary. Only you really know what you'd rather be doing today. Perhaps you yearn for a long walk, or a cozy quilt and a good book. ... These treats have their time. But their time is not the writing time.
-Susan Shaughnessy, Walking on Alligators

Discipline is hard. It's really difficult to fight off the early morning sleepiness or the monkey mind that wants to meander all over creation and sit down and be creative. There may be other important work that needs to get done. That shoves creative endeavours off to the side. It oughtn't to, but it usually does.

I've written about this before, and I'm sure I will write about it again in here. It's an issue that plagues all modern creatives. We have lives and families and jobs and whatnot else, and frequently we feel as if being creative is something that's not as important as all those other things. The voice of The Judge booms over any attempt we may make to squirm free of responsibilities, to pare out a little time in the afternoon to sit down and write or paint or sculpt or what-have-you. "You should be doing 'X'! You're ignoring your responsibilities!"

You have a responsibility to nurture your creative self, too. Many of us place ourselves and our personal needs last on the list of things that need to get done. I do it all the time. If I'm beholden only to myself, it's very easy to just blow off that Artist Date or say, "Eh, I'll do my writing /tomorrow/." But tomorrow I say the same thing, and the next day, and before I know it a week has passed and I've not sat down to write fiction once. And on the heels of such a realisation comes the self-criticism, the put-downs, the mantras of failure.

It doesn't have to be so. Last week I missed two (TWO!) posts in this blog. I didn't race to catch up, I didn't berate myself (much) for having slacked off or been too busy or whatever the circumstance was. I'll just do my best this week to post here every day, like I usually do. It's okay. I don't want to repeat it, but it's not the end of the world. I'll just keep on going, one word in front of the other.

Video Thursday: Inspiring Authors

This week's video is a bit of inspiration from published authors about writing. They give some very useful and entertaining advice.

Creativity and the perfect writing space

So what to write about today? The world is a sunny, bright, white wonderland of snow today. A wonderland by my description perhaps most because I don't need to go out in it. On my desktop is a scene of tropical sandy warmth and if I close my eyes I can feel the sun, hear the ocean, smell the salt on the air.


One of Jack Heffron's prompts invites the writer to envision his or her perfect writing space. Blocked writers often say things like, "If only I had the money to redo the guest bedroom, I'd turn it into a writing space. Then I could write." It's easy to fall into the trap of "if only". Many writers think that they have to quit their jobs and move to the country or the mountains to write a novel. A trip through National Novel Writing Month will cure them of that belief. I've learned that showing up is the most important action when it comes to writing. A writer friend of mine calls it "Ass In Chair", or "AIC". You sit down and you write. It doesn't matter if you're in the mood or not. You don't need to be in the mood to write. If it's sunny, you write. If it's cloudy, you write. If a foot of snow has fallen on your house, you write, then you go shovel snow for a while. When that's done, you come back and write some more.

It can be hard to face the blank page/screen, but all you need to do is put something down. Make a mark. Then make another one. Pretty soon your Muse will come out to play. Can you envision her peeking around the corner, wondering what all that writing is about? She's too curious to stay away for long.

My ideal writing space would be warm and brightly lit, probably in a little cottage by the ocean. I have a backdrop for my computer of a view out of a whitewashed window, framed with light drapes, looking out on a pristine white beach and a crystal blue sea. With a little imagination I can be in that place, that imaginary place of comfort and perfect organisation (as my real-world workspace is a bit cluttered at the best of times), and allow it to refresh me. The sound of seabirds calling drifts through like music, timed by nature to dance along the rush of the ocean up to the shore. I sit at the window with a notebook of thick, beautiful paper, a stunningly crafted fountain pen in my hand, or perhaps at an old-fashioned typewriter, which, in my fantasy, is as easy to type upon as the laptop keyboard I'm really using. My Muse drifts in, etherial in a flowy white dress, and smiles benevolently on me as I write, ideas spilling like wine overflowing a crystal goblet.

But alas, in the real world it's very much winter time. Here it's -3 degrees Centigrade, and to my internal thermometer, anything below 10 C is too cold. And while it's bright and sunny, it's a bit too bright. The sunlight reflects off the newly-fallen snow and can be offensive to eyes that aren't prepared for it. Here in my landlocked town, I won't be hearing the ocean anywhere but in my memory or from a disc of recorded surf sounds. I can warm the place up, put on an extra sweater, bring back the sensations of my fantasy writing space in my mind. With the CD running, I might even begin to think I was in that little cottage, peacefully nestled against the beach, with nothing to interrupt my creativity.

You don't need an ideal space to begin writing. Writing needs only a few tools, which are easily accessible to nearly everyone. People who take time off to write their novels find they suddenly have a lot of other things to do that aren't writing their novels.

So sit down and take half an hour to write something today. It doesn't matter if you call yourself a writer or not. Human beings are, by our very nature, creative beings. You don't have to write great things. You can make poetry with a grocery list. Capture a moment of your kids' lives in a little vignette. Imagine a wonderful place to be. Describe it with words. Don't let the unique ideas in your head get away. We all have interesting things floating about in our heads. Grab one and capture it on the page. You'll be glad you did.

Jack Heffron's 'Enemies of Creativity': The Talker

A few years ago I started a story that I filenamed 'Bing Bong'. It was about a woman who finds in her basement a strange object that turns out to be some kind of alien artifact or something. It inadvertently wreaks havoc in her life by 'helping' her: tidying her papers (and destroying the 'strata system' pseudo-organisational system she uses), washing her dog (and nearly killing it), etc.

When I first started writing it, this was a shiny new story idea with potential. I had scrawled down some disasters to happen and wrote out a few hundred words setting up the character and the dog.

Then I got involved with what Jack Heffron calls 'The Talker'. It's a personification of the need some writers have to talk about their ongoing works. My Talker can talk to anyone, even me, about my work. The Talker was largely responsible for this embryonic story's loss of that sparkle, that shine of inspiration.

The Talker needs attention. The Talker needs validation. The Talker would rather talk about an idea than confront its complexities, its obstacles. The Talker wants the glory but none of the hard work that really lies at the heart of all creative efforts. - The Writer's Idea Book - Jack Heffron

And it's for this reason that I need to catch my Talker before she gets going and put some duct tape over her mouth. The trouble is, I get use out of talking about my stories sometimes. The trick is to balance output with input, I suppose. It should be okay for me to talk about a story a little bit, but not go on and on until I'm talked out about it and it falls flat.

The Talker is particularly dangerous during NaNoWriMo, but, to me, equally as helpful. This year I talked my story to myself when I was stuck during the first couple weeks, and stumbled into new and interesting events, discovered amazing background secrets. I had a fascinating 'a-HA!' moment while pacing around my kitchen, to the bemusement of my cat, talking about these chitinous, insectoid aliens and how their race had gotten so messed up, really. It allowed me to continue with my story. I stopped The Talker before she got carried away and sat back down to write about what I'd discovered.