Many people who give advice about writing talk about ritual and routine. ‘Writers should stick to a routine.’ ‘You can’t write properly without rituals.’ Yet again, I am going to call bullshit. Not all people need routine and ritual, and certainly not all people need them all the time. Yes, some people like routines. Yes, some people find them useful some of the time. But in this book I’m busting all the stupid myths I’ve heard over and over about what a writer is and isn’t and what you ‘must’ do to be a writer. My whole life I have heard people declare that there is only one way to do certain things. Yet here I am doing these things quite successfully in a totally different way. And I am not alone.
Personally, I am not one for ritual. I write using the same mantra I used to raise my kids: the best routine is no routine. I do find it helpful to exercise first and write on an empty stomach (just coffee). I use food and a shower as rewards. I find it easier to write in silence with headphones in. I find it easier to start early in the day. But I have also written in the middle of the night, in noisy cafes, at home with kids screaming around me, and after a huge meal. So while I prefer certain conditions, they’re not absolute rules.
However, routine and rituals do have some advantages. Some writers like to write in the same place every day, or at least regularly. Some like a cup of tea or coffee beside them and will exercise, read or meditate either side of their writing sessions. My seventeen-year-old burns incense. Some people turn a lamp on or put on their writing cardigan. These things can all be helpful to get you into the writing mindset.
Do whatever works to get yourself focused. If I am writing on time limit or to a word count, sometimes I simply write out a note to myself with my goal on it: ‘2000 words today, then anything you want.’ Or: ‘Four hours. That’s all. Two breaks. Finish before kids come home at 3.30, then whatever you want.’ Writing a schedule the night before is a routine I have used in the past and I know many people who write out a detailed weekly schedule. This makes a lot of sense. By setting goals, you get those expectation-in-anticipation-of-the-triumph-of-achieving-a-goal chemicals pumping in your brain. A schedule also signals to your distracted monkey mind that there is an end to the writing, the discipline and the deprivation. You won’t get distracted by admin when you are meant to be writing, because doing admin is clearly scheduled for another time – preferably a time when you find it harder to write (such as at the end of the day, when kids are around). Many writers I know use coloured Post-it notes to create a visual schedule of blocks of time. Your writing blocks could be yellow, admin blocks green and breaks blue. You can do a daily plan with them or a weekly one. The best part of a Post-it note plan is the feeling of chucking the Post-it notes away as you complete tasks.
When you are doing your admin, do it properly. I am a big fan of the ten-minute rule. If it’s going to take less than ten minutes and you have ten minutes now: do it. Stay on task.
When you are writing, remember that you do not have to answer the phone or respond to an email as soon as it comes in. You don’t even have to answer the door. If you are writing, you are working. Make phone calls and write emails during your designated admin time or free time, not your writing time.
Do not let incoming distractions shape your day. Stick to your ‘to do’ list. All the other things can wait. You will be amazed what a small amount of time it takes to get through your email or catch up with Facebook in one sitting.
This is a bit off topic but fuck it, it’s my book and I’ll wander off if it floats my boat: I reckon we are all becoming obese on information. We are swallowing tons of information all day but not digesting it. Heard of food diaries? When people want to lose weight, they use a food diary to record everything they eat. It reveals just how much they eat and when, and makes them think twice before eating something unhealthy, because they know they’ll have to record it. I sometimes wonder if we should have tech diaries, where we write down how much time we spend – and how – on the internet. It would show us just how much time we are frittering away and make us think twice before doing so.
Having a schedule is a bit like a time diet. It stops you frittering time away all over the place. At the start of the day you know what you are meant to be doing when, and at the end you finish with a sense of satisfaction that you have completed the tasks you set yourself. It makes you mindful and focused. Tick off those goals. Good feeling, amirite?
Having a schedule with clearly defined, achievable chunks of time is much more doable and encouraging than trying to write a whole book in vague blocks. If you set out to ‘write for the day’, you may not feel any real sense of completion. There’s no clear sense of starting and finishing. Don’t underestimate the rewarding feeling of formally ‘knocking off’ for the day. If you set out to write a certain amount of words or for a certain amount of uninterrupted time, you can do that. If you complete your little chunk and pat yourself on the back, you are more likely to relax and then go back and do a little more the next day.
When you know you are not going to be productive, don’t dick around on the computer or at your desk beating yourself up. Do something else that will benefit you later. Take a walk, do the shopping, run some errands, pick up stuff for dinner, peel some potatoes, fold some clothes. This will mean you have more time later – hopefully prime time when you feel fresh and full of willpower. Chances are, if you get away from your writing and do something else, you will unknot your brain a little. While you are doing the mindless stuff, your subconscious minions will be processing, sorting and digging deeper. But only when you have switched out of writing mode.
I don’t watch sport or play computer games (my kids challenge this – they say, ‘Your computer game is Facebook and your sport is drinking coffee and talking about your emotions.’). But I remember reading somewhere how good both those things are for work stress and anxiety. They preoccupy the frontal cortex with something kind of mindless but distracting, leaving the rest of the brain free to churn over and process the big stuff. It is very important to leave yourself some space – down time – in your schedule. When your brain rests – that’s when an immense amount of thinking, sorting and polishing is done. Your brain goes deeper into whatever it is you are writing. But only when you turn it off.
Many writers get up, exercise, write until mid-afternoon when their brain starts to frazzle a bit, then do paperwork, admin and errands and usually a little bit of light editing and reading back over what they’ve written. Then they let themselves relax, knowing they’ve done their work. Some work a gruelling schedule for six months a year and take the other six months off. Either way, these writers balance productivity with rest and mental space.
Others (don’t let this be you) live in a constant state of panic. They feel guilty and anxious about not writing but when they finally sit down to write they’re distracted and don’t stick to the task. They are totally knackered by the emotional wringer they have put themselves through. Don’t waste time and energy you could be using on writing on guilt, anxiety and procrastination. It takes far less effort to just sit down and write. Don’t exhaust yourself. Just get cracking. Tell yourself you can have your anxiety and nervous breakdown after 500 words.
Starting to write for the day or beginning a project is a little like turning the water back on after work has been done on the pipes. At first when you turn it on it’s just brown water spluttering out in fits and starts. Then there’s nothing but the pipes shuddering. Then some more brown water, spluttering a little less and flowing out of the tap a little more. The colour changes from brown to clearish to clear and back again. Suddenly there seems to be a decent, smooth flow – less brown, more clear. And before you know it, you’ve run a bath.
Writing’s about pulling yourself away from all the distractions, doubts, commitments, responsibilities, obligations and voices in your head that are obstacles to your own success. It’s a test. The obstacles are there to test you.
Give a bit of routine and ritual a go. It may be what you need. But remember: writing is not one size fits all.
Every so often, even if you are a fan of routine or have a set writing ritual, you will find you need to shake things up. If procrastination is biting, try doing something different. Every now and then, force yourself to write in a way or under conditions you consider not optimal. It will challenge those ‘I can’t write unless …’ excuses.
Try something you think could never work for you. Give it a go for just fifteen minutes and see what happens. Do you hate noise? Write in a cafe for fifteen minutes with or without earplugs. Are you a night owl? Write for fifteen minutes as soon as you wake. Are you a sleepyhead who likes to go to bed early? Write when you are exhausted. But just for fifteen minutes. You might be surprised at the results.
My mate Louise Fox is a brilliant and prolific writer. She told me once that many writers she knows say their drug of choice is exhaustion. There is some science behind creativity being more enhanced when you are tired. When you are not alert enough to keep your brain ‘on its flower’, you can find you have access to some magical creative wonderlands.
This is a common story for creatives of all sorts. A Guardian article in 2014 reported that artists such as Chris Martin, Moby, Tricky and King Krule ‘have all talked about finding sleepless nights inspiring as well as tormenting.’ Dave Bayley, from the quartet Glass Animals, says he ‘owes his career in music to insomnia’.
When you’re sleep-deprived I imagine it’s quite similar to having taken certain drugs … The logical side of your brain is slowly withering away because there’s not enough energy to power it, and all these crazy ideas start happening that your brain would normally suppress. I find the brain a mystical beast. It’s so bizarre and interesting.
I found that I write better hungry. Weird, I know. Logic would be that you should eat first so you can concentrate, so you are not hungry and distracted by a rumbly tummy. Instead, I found that when I am hungry, I get speedy. When I have a full tummy, I can get a bit sluggish.
According to scientists, there are ways to increase creativity. Meditation, exercise, good sleep. Yep, yep, yep. Heard it all before. But science has also proven that doing something out of the ordinary increases your creativity. Walking a different route home from the station. Brushing your teeth with a different hand. Eating a food you don’t usually eat. Wearing different clothes.
So there’s good reason to shake things up occasionally when you are writing. Move to a different room to write. Drink something different, handwrite for a change, spend your first five minutes drawing about what you are writing about, then change hands and draw with the non-dominant hand. If you write inside, write outside for a bit. Change rooms. Write in the bathroom for thirty minutes. Normally sit in a chair? Try cross-legged on the ground. Write for an hour every day? Try two blocks of half an hour. Or try seventy-five minutes.
There are many feelings that will keep you writing. The feeling of doing something you find scary, hard or daunting. The smug self-satisfaction of doing something you consider worthy and worth bragging about (if only to yourself). The swelling word count giving you a sense of progress. The feeling of mastery, knowing you are getting better: if not with the content of your writing yet, then at least getting better at sitting down and actually writing. Your discipline. The feeling of not hating yourself at the end of the day.
Then there is the excitement of sitting down and knowing that today might be the day you get to that sweet spot. The euphoric space where everything flows. Sweet spots encourage you to write for longer: you want to get back to that place of creative flow again. My partner, Bear, plays bass. He has found that he can sometimes get to an incredible sweet spot after playing for about seventy minutes. He doesn’t always get to it, but he only ever gets there after seventy minutes. Try writing for a little longer than usual to see if you can hit a sweet spot. It will never occur at the beginning of a session. Whenever I have found myself in really trippy, euphoric sweet spots with writing or running, it’s been after at least forty-five minutes. And that’s forty-five minutes with no internet breaks. It’s forty-five minutes staying in the zone. On my flower. After you write regularly for a bit, you’ll accumulate some wonderful sweet spot experiences. Which encourages you to go back more often. It’s a bit like a gambling pull: ‘Maybe today I’ll find myself in the magical place.’
Perhaps it’s more like fishing than gambling. You know those fishermen who time and time again come back with nothing but occasionally bring something home and very occasionally bring home something incredible? Yep, that.
Routine and novelty. Mix it up, and you’ll find your own sweet spots.
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So that’s my writing tool shed. Like all sheds, there is a lot of stuff in it and I only use a few things very occasionally, but it’s a comfort to know it’s all there.
You may read all these ideas and find that you just go back to the usual way you write. You may find your own ways to shift between projects, types of writing, your own creative voices. That’s okay. You may have bought this book to get yourself to pull your finger out. Maybe the act of reading it made you think, ‘I don’t need any of these gimmicks. I just need to do it.’ At the end of The Wizard of Oz, the Good Witch, Glinda, says, ‘You had the power all along, my dear.’ Yeah, that.
One in every twenty-five people or so who sign up to my class doesn’t come. I used to think I should phone them up and check if they were okay or if they missed it but then I thought, perhaps booking the masterclass was all they needed to make them realise that life is short and they just need to write. I also didn’t want to be cajoling people. I know plenty of people who did well at high school with teachers chasing them up and hassling but flunked at university because there was no-one cracking the whip.
You have to crack your own whip.