by Abigail Oswald | News
Too busy to write? No, actually, you’re not. You can run into this misconception no matter what kind of writer you are—blogger, novelist, or master haikuist. With these 11 ways to procrastinate less and write more, maybe you can keep that New Year’s resolution after all.
1. Get up earlier. Or, if you’re a night owl, just stay up a little later. It’s easy to say you’re “too busy” during your work or school day, when you’ve got a laundry list of tasks that seem more pressing. But in those silent morning (or midnight) hours, your boss won’t be looking over your shoulder and you don’t have any pressing deadlines to worry about. No excuses, either.
2. Set a goal. One of the best things I did for my writing was sign up for National Novel Writing Month. 50,000 words in 30 days seems like the most intimidating thing in the world until you get to the end of that month, and then it’s incredibly satisfying. If setting a goal for the whole month sounds too intimidating, try a week at a time and evaluate as you go. Bonus: if you do something every day, you’ll probably get better at it.
3. Schedule your writing times. This is great if you aren’t writing because you “just don’t have the time.” You do, I promise. You just need to schedule your writing—visually, on a calendar, like you would a dentist appointment. (Glamorous, I know.) I personally operate on a system of iPhone reminders, calendar alerts, and timers. Which segues into my next suggestion…
4. Use a timer. If your problem typically lies in getting started, set a timer for ten minutes and tell yourself you can only stop when your time’s up. Some days, you’ll probably stop after ten minutes. On others, you’ll end up going beyond that initial ding, buzz, or tweet. Either way, you’ll have the satisfaction of knowing you wrote something. If using an alarm stresses you out, try a smart playlist. Compile a list of songs that add up to about fifteen minutes, or twenty. After listening to the playlist a couple of times, you’ll have a vague notion of time remaining based on the song that’s playing.
5.
When you’re writing, just write. Don’t do anything else. We live in an era unfortunately obsessed with multi-tasking, and it
cuts into creativity. That means no Netflix binge-watching should happen simultaneously. You’ll be more focused and probably get more work done in less time, too.
6.
Find tools that work for you. Don’t encumber yourself with an unnecessary, many-featured text editor if that’s just not your scene. If you just can’t get in to digital writing, go ahead—write your blog posts on notebook paper. Hell, if you want to see a new picture of a cat for every 100 words you write, there’s a
website for that. On the other end of the spectrum,
Write or Die is an app with a consequence mode that will begin “disemvoweling” your words if you aren’t writing fast enough. And my personal favorite,
SelfControl, will block websites and social media accounts of your choosing for up to 24 hours at a time.
7. Consider a writing ritual. Some great writers have had pretty weird ones. Ernest Hemingway and Albert Camus apparently wrote while standing. Jack Kerouac had to touch the ground exactly nine times before he could start writing. Victor Hugo would eat two raw eggs every morning before putting a pen to paper. Yours can be as simple as making a cup of coffee and adding two sugars, but it should be a consistent action that you eventually come to associate with the start of your writing process.
8.
Find a writing buddy. Or, at the very least, someone who’ll hold you to your word. Accountability can work wonders for the lazy writer. If you tell your friend you’ll have a blog post up at the end of the week, you’re less likely to shrug it off and extend your self-made deadline. If you’re interested in collaboration and/or feedback, there’s also a plethora of local workshops and
meetup groups to choose from.
9.
Read the genre you want to write. When I was on a short story kick, I read (and loved) tons of short stories. (If you’re in the same boat, try Lydia Davis’
Varieties of Disturbance for something modern, Raymond Carver’s
What We Talk About When We Talk About Love for a classic, or Stuart Dybek’s
“We Didn’t” if you want to read something right now!) Also, think about skimming the reviews before you buy a book. If you read good work, you’ll want to write good work. Simple as that.
10.
Follow your writing heroes. Fantasy king Neil Gaiman has a
blog, novelist Joyce Carol Oates has an oft-amusing
Twitter, and copywriting extraordinaire Alexandra Franzen has an email
newsletter. If you digitally surround yourself with the thoughts of likeminded people, your motivation to write will increase. Plus, if you’re going to spend any amount of time scrolling through one feed or another, you might as well include people who are paid to write for a living. They’re less likely to make dumb typos.
11. Reward yourself! Did you meet your deadline? Finish an article? Write your entire autobiography in free verse? Buy yourself a better notebook. Or a delicious, over-priced latte. You deserve it. (Just make sure you can afford it.)
Friendly reminder: You don’t have to write a novel in one sitting. You don’t even have to finish the short story, article, wedding toast, limerick, or whatever it is you’re trying to write all in one go. Break your goals down as much as you can, and be sure to simplify whenever possible. Writing might actually end up being fun again.
by Abigail Oswald | News
Charles Bukowski wrote a poem that begins, “If it doesn’t come bursting out of you in spite of everything, don’t do it.” The title of the work assures confused readers that the poet is indeed talking about writing, rather than a bodily function of some sort. (It’s helpfully called “So You Want to Be a Writer.”) However, the worrisome implication that writing should be involuntary remains.
I optimistically taped this poem above my desk in my first year of college, ready to declare my English major and more than confident that I was a True Writer. Bukowski, in all his lowercase glory, had me convinced that writer’s block was a figment of the wannabe’s imagination, and I was no wannabe! When I hit a major bout of writer’s block later that semester, however, the mindset of this mythical True Writer quickly became problematic.
In his haste to differentiate himself from the crowd, Bukowski implies that those who experience any kind of creative drought should just give up altogether—but where is the encouragement in that? Elitism like this goes hand-in-hand with the persona perpetuated by the likes of Jack Kerouac, who maintained that he wrote On the Road in three weeks and sweated through countless T-shirts while doing so. What an intimidating standard to live up to! What does that mean for writers who run low on inspiration, or don’t know what to write about, or stop to do laundry during that sweaty three-week stretch?
The fact of the matter is that there’s no such thing as a True Writer. We should worry less about fitting into a dated, romanticized mold and stop comparing ourselves to others. No matter what era you write in—whether you’re a 21st-century blogger or unemployed and sitting in front of a typewriter—you’ll experience a creative block at some point. That’s okay. Those who tell you otherwise are either lying or named Charles Bukowski—or maybe both.
There’s a simple freedom in realizing that your writing doesn’t have to violently burst out of you “in spite of everything.” You’re allowed to take a break, step away for coffee, leave it for a few days and then come back. You can write multiple drafts—in fact, that’s recommended. You can edit for punctuation, grammar, and clarity. Perhaps that doesn’t flow as well or sound as sexy when broken into strategically enjambed lines, but aren’t you more likely to create if your very identity as a writer isn’t hanging in the balance? If creativity is intimidating, the results will inevitably suffer. But then again, maybe that was Bukowski’s way of narrowing down the competition.
Maybe I’ve picked on him a bit, but I like to think the poet meant well. You probably shouldn’t be writing if your sole motivation is wanting “women in your bed”—I agree with him there. But “if you have to sit for hours staring at your computer screen,” by all means carry on. You’re fighting through the block, and there’s a poetry in that, too.
