Writing and Me
Writing is hard. Even now, as I type into this blank docx file, I struggle to come up with the proper words to describe just how hard it is.
It becomes far more difficult, at least for me, when writing something like this, instead of prose. (This being the main reason why I’ve put off doing another blog post, even though I chide myself in doing so). That is not to say that I didn’t have difficulties in writing fiction a few years back. Those difficulties came, not from language, but from a skewed mindset on how to embark on projects, and how to write fiction in general.
So, as I work on part two of The Limbo Chronologies, and edit part one, I thought about sharing what helps me, and how I go about things.
I’ll start with telling you about my routine.
Routine
Put simply, I sit down every day, (usually in the morning), I open my hour/word tracker excel sheet, I clock in, I write. I use the Pomodoro technique, (mostly). 25 minutes of deep focus, 5 minute break, repeat, until I finish the fourth cycle which is followed by a fifteen minute break.
I’ve taken inspiration from several sources on how to approach my writing time. The best, I think, being Steven Pressfield’s, The War of Art. In it he instructs the reader to take whatever creative thing you do seriously and treat it as though it already is your profession. To respect it, and the time you give it. Be a professional.
This led me to creating my Writer Tracker, a very basic Excel spreadsheet that tracks my hours worked, and words written. It’s a good way to keep myself accountable, seeing as I don’t really have anyone, (in person that is), to do it for me. I like adding notes to days to either explain what and why I’ve written, or if something has come up and I’ve not been able to write. Give a clear reason so future me can remember, you know.
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To some this might sound very mechanical and all but creative, but I’ve found that routine, and a structured way of going about it, opens me up to creativity more regularly. I’m my own Pavlov’s dog in a sense, and I’ve conditioned myself to write, (or at least to stare in mute suffering at a blank page for a while), each time the spreadsheet is open on my desktop.
The HOW
I ramble. I really do. In person I rant when heated. In writing, I vomit.
What does that mean?
I’ll tell you. Taking the advice of writers and authors far superior than I, when I get an idea from that cosmic undefinable space where ideas come from, I vomit it out. I try to frontload my writing to such an extent that I get out as much black on white as I can, in the form of a first draft and copious notes. I’m paraphrasing Stephen King in his book, On Writing, when I say that the best way is to just pump the first draft out. DON’T FOCUS ON MINUTAE at this stage. That is reserved for the revision process.
I do not plot, I do not brainstorm ideas, I do not think about tropes, cliches, pacing, or ANYTHING of the sort. I don’t use any novel/short story writing methods from here or there. I don’t even create the characters in advance. (Maybe it’s the reason no one has ever accepted my shorts to magazines and such, who can say). I just write it all out. Buddy Limbo is an exception, seeing as he’s been with me since childhood, and I know him very well.
The most I have in mind when starting out is the beginning, the setting, and the ending. These elements are often clear in mind from the start, but even they are subject to change, as all things in creative work should be.
Where do ideas come from?
For me, the honest answer is: I don’t know. Seriously, I’ve no idea. The idea for my novel, for example, came to me when I saw a wrinkle in my apartment’s wallpaper.
I kid you not.
I looked at that long line on the wall, and poof, an entire world shot into my head. The whole story of the novel uploaded into my BRAIN from some ethereal space in the form of a cognitive zip file.
That’s the best analogy I’ve come up with. It’s like a zip file that needs to be extracted, then parsed through and pieced together. All the data for the story I want to tell is contained within, but it takes a lot of time to go through everything and sort it out into a nice readable medium. (In ye olden days the proper analogy might’ve been seeing the statue in the uncut stone, I guess).
This is why the revision process is so damn IMPORTANT! The first draft serves its purpose in only giving a general outline, a rough map that you pieced together from that zip file. Once that is done, you let it rest, then return to it. You read through it, no matter how nauseous your writing makes you, then you rewrite that slag into something better. Then you repeat the revision process ad nauseum, searching that thought-file for anything you might’ve missed, until you have something you’re satisfied with.
Writing in general
Note: none of what I’m saying is new. Maybe it is to you, whoever you are, but it is not in the world of writing.
The more you write, the less drafts I find it takes until you get out what you want. The only way to get better in writing is to write.
“Duh,” some of you say. But it’s not that obvious to many. I’m a great example.
Before I started my tracker, I did everything under the sun BUT write, in hopes I’d be better at writing. I read, (reading is not bad for writing, but you still have to write), I watched tutorial videos on plot and/or structure, I consumed copious amounts of info on grammar. I read reviews on other books; I practiced coming up with ideas or themes and other bullshit. I did all of this, but I didn’t write. Then I wondered why writing is so damn hard, why my writing was so damn bad. (Hell, maybe it still is, but I cringe at it far less than before). The worst thing I did, by far, was waiting for “inspiration”, or the right “mood” to write.
Newsflash: if you’re writing time is tied to some ephemeral gust of a transient emotion, you’re never going to write. That comes few and far between. When it does, enjoy it, but write even in its absence. (Even this was in Pressfield’s book if I remember right).
What am I talking about specifically?
Motivation.
I hate that word. I really do. Specifically internal motivation, (external being the other). How I see it, it’s paradoxical. It does not exist unless you make it exist. And unless you do so, you’re going to be left waiting and wanting.
I liken it to waiting for rain in the dry season, expecting it to water your garden. Waiting for it even though you have rainwater barrels nearby, even though you could go to the well, get some water, and do it yourself.
Instead, you think: “maybe today it will rain”.
All your thoughts are focused on how nice it felt when it was cool, when the sun was hidden behind dark clouds, how when the rain finally let up, the scent of moist soil enriched your soul. You remember how fun it was to dance as the rain came down, how the sounds of it pattering off the window made you feel safe. How the world seemed to slow down and sigh in relief when the streets flowed with an abundance of water.
Once you get desperate enough, even though you could just water your garden yourself, you watch it waste away, then you dance in hopes that rain would come, with tears of ash washing down your cheeks, the wasted hours haunting you.
…
I’ve a really complicated relationship with motivation, as you can tell. I get very heated when people around me speak of motivation as though it is some mystical being like the tooth fairy.
The Why
Because I love doing it. That’s it. I love writing, I love reading, I love revising. I love reading my old stuff, seeing what works, and what doesn’t. I love the process of fine tuning a story to where it is something I’d read for leisure.
Does that mean I like everything I’ve written? Hell no. But that’s the best part of it. I get to CHANGE and revise until I do.
And man does it feel good to finish a larger project, (my novel for example), and seeing the word count, the chapter headings, the formatting. Just everything.
I love getting lost in the process, then shitting myself when the 25 minute alarm goes off, and I have to take a break. Then I pace for five minutes, like a dog in a cage, eager to get back to the keyboard.
Thank you for reading
I’m off to continue part two, and to get chapter two of part one ready for posting.
Then schoolwork… (thank God I’m done with school come December).
I hope all of you have a beautiful weekend, and to those who play games, PLAY HOLLOW KNIGHT SILKSONG! As I will be doing later this evening.
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