If you were in charge of a toddler who’s gotten her room horribly messy and you want her to learn how to clean it up, you wouldn’t just yell, “Clean up your room!” and slam the door.
Why? Because you instinctively know that such a formless directive will overload the child, who will stand in the middle of the room without the faintest idea of how to begin.
Instead, it might occur to you to suggest that she start by clearing a large space on the floor. You’d suggest she start piling things that are alike together. “Your blocks could go here, your dolls could go here, your cars could go here.”
The child will instantly grasp what to do and will feel in control.
You wouldn’t suggest too many steps at a time because, again, that would distract and overload her.
You’d want to explain how to do it, step by small step. “As soon as all the blocks are together, you can put them in their bag.”
This way, bit by bit, the child can tidy up the whole room by herself—and have an idea how to go about it solo the next time.
There are two valuable lessons here:
1) Don’t overload, take it little by little.
and
2) Pile similar stuff together.
What does this have to do with us?
When it comes to writing, we are all small children.
Every project is different. We are new to everything, all the time. What a glorious life! Every question that we pose for ourselves is new, everything we do is fresh.
It follows that if you overload yourself by trying to figure out the whole project at once, let alone write it all at once, you’ll stand there with your hands on your hips, your heart sinking. With perhaps one small tear inching down your cheek.
...which is why writing about details can prompt your heartbrain to new scenes, new ideas. So write your way into something small, and let it get bigger, further, different, developed. Love your ideas. Let ’em loose, let ’em run, then chase ’em down!
Taking it step-by-step, without hurrying, but without dragging your feet about it, will give you the results you want: free, happy writing, in manageable hunks, that will add up to the book of your dreams.
The best way for a writer to avoid overload and pile like with like is unbelievably simple: Make lists. Because once it’s down on paper, you don’t have to hold it in your head. You’re free to focus on writing one well-defined piece at a time.
Professional authors write lists all the time. Why? Because it’s liberating, helpful, and fun.
The list itself can lead you to solve all manner of issues.
If you put each thing on a separate sheet of paper or index card, you can organize them any way that seems right.
Let your lists sit for a bit. Go back to them. What stuff seems best? Reviewing a list often will trigger a new idea or a combo of two you’ve already written down or a twist on another one, and you realize that’s it!
Then when you go ahead and write, it comes easily because you’re free of doubt. You’re free to have fun. So satisfying!
What of the leftovers? You’re at liberty to save anything you won’t use right now. Maybe it’s a mundane idea or chunk of writing that you’ll throw away eventually, but you don’t feel comfortable rushing it to the trash heap. Put it in a folder (physical or digital) with other pieces you’ve saved from stormwrites and draft pages.
It can’t hurt to sit down and write the scene that’s going to go into the book. If you write them all, in whatever order, you’ll have your book, and all you’ll need to do is put them in a reasonable sequence.
Another terrific benefit of list-making is that you might realize, as you go, that you have a bunch of material for a second book in the making. Your camp craft book might evolve into a book on making your own equipment and another on environmentally-friendly camping techniques. Your novel about a woman who finds romance behind prison bars might evolve into a series about the woman, her convict sisters, and the guards who love them.
I hadn’t even considered the possibility of a second book.
There ya go.
You can vanquish a dry spell by starting any silly old list about a person, place, or thing that you’re writing about. What does Character A hate with a passion? What kind of stores make up the shopping plaza in Chapter B? How many different jobs have I held in my life?
And, of course, a list can turn into an honest-to-gosh stormwrite before you know it. Remember your friends Yes, and— and What if? Write those chunks that suggest themselves to you, pursue those tangents!