Time for Writing

I have met very few people who tell me that they cannot wait to sit down to write. No matter how accomplished they are at this process, it seems that most people struggle to find the discipline needed to meet the blank page. I am the same. Once I sit down and if I persist beyond ten minutes or so, I usually can become absorbed in what I am doing. On the best days, I lose track of time altogether as I write and rewrite. It is that pleasurable absorption that keeps me returning to my laptop or journal. But it never seems to get easier.

The best approach for me has been to observe my habits of avoidance and then counteract those peccadilloes. For instance, if I am not sure what I want to write about, I set a timer on my laptop for thirty minutes or so and just begin to type ideas. The trick is to keep writing something, using that language to cajole my thinking, and keep typing no matter what. After a few minutes, my brain stops trying to talk me out of this foolishness and actually gets interested. Threads appear that point to where my writing should go.

Another thing my brain tries to suggest to me is get up and do something else just when I start writing. Is that not dust on the upper bookshelf? It needs to be taken care of! Is that the oven timer? Perhaps I should go check. So, I have learned to make a deal with my brain. If you want to get up and go somewhere, take the idea you are avoiding with you. Just walk around and think about it for a while--but not long. Set the timer. There's a theme here you see--my writing is like a hard-boiled egg. It needs timing to set properly.

Most of all, I try to think about my resistance as a bit humorous and something of a game. I like to imagine I am outside myself, watching the writer. I ask, "How am I go to play with this writer today?" This approach helps surprisingly. At least I don't get frustrated with my slothful ways. And why do I feel guilty about not writing anyway? (That's a whole other blog entry.)

But more seriously, I find it an interesting phenomenon that I struggle with the opportunity to engage in this creative work. I don't have trouble convincing myself to work in my flower garden or take my camera out in the field. What is it about writing that meets with resistance? Perhaps it is because we narrate ourselves and our experience that our writing becomes the heartbeat of our identity. Perhaps written language shapes us more definitively than other things we do in life--even more than spoken language.

In the meantime, I continue to choose humor over despair. And Margaret Atwood's tips for writing keep me smiling.