Work Habits
"When writers ask each other what time they start working and when they finish and how much time they take for lunch, they're actually trying to find out 'Is he as crazy as I am?'" –Joyce Carol Oates
I came across a quote the other day. It was attributed to Philip Roth, and he said, "I don't ask writers about their work habits. I really don't care." I read that quote, and I thought, Well good for Mr. Roth if he doesn't care about other writers work habits—but I think I think he may be the only one who doesn't. Personally, I can never get enough of it, and most writers I know feel the same.
Case in point: just recently there was an article in the NY Times titled, "Forget Ideas, Mr. Author. What kind of Pen Do You Use?" And the first sentence is "Here is a truth to which all writers can attest: Readers are more interested in process than in product."
So what is it about the process that so fascinates us? I think we all want to know—in a practical, day–to–day sense—how to go from a blank sheet of paper to a finished book. (Or for those who already have a finished book, we want to know how to do it better.) We think, Maybe if I create this schedule, adhere to this regime, it will go more smoothly. Maybe that's the little trick that will make all the difference and make the words just flow onto the page. We want to find a way, through the use of craft, to solve the problem and mystery of creativity.
Sometimes I ask myself, Are we all just making a fuss over nothing? Wouldn't it make the most sense to go about it like any other job? I always envy those writers who say that they work from nine until five. They make it sound so simple. And I wonder, Why can't I do that? But then I have to remind myself of one thing I've learned that I want to pass on: the way you write is as individual as what you write. Hemmingway wrote standing up. Pushkin wrote lying down in bed. And Trollope—he trained himself to write by the clock–– a certain number of words per hour, a certain number of hours a day. And if he finished a novel halfway through a working session, he'd write the title of a new book, then "Chapter One" and he'd go right on until he filled his quota for the day.
But the routine that works for one person will not necessarily work for another. It actually goes even further than that–– even a routine that works for you one book might not work for the next. Thankfully, I've found that writing has gotten easier with time, and I can trace the cause to the helpful hints I've picked up from reading about other writers' work habits.
On my first book I had no real plan—I set no parameters other than a daily page count. I set myself an unbending requirement of three single spaced pages a day. And I managed to stick to that, but most of the time it took me all day to produce those three pages—and I mean from when I woke up in the morning to when I went to sleep at night. Now, it's true, I wasn't sitting staring at my computer the whole time. I would take breaks (lots of breaks) but I didn't really give myself permission to do anything else. You can get a book written that way, but I'll tell you, you can't really have a life too. And I did that seven days a week because I knew if I took a day off, much less two, it would be that much harder to go back to it.
After that experience, I decided that I wanted some sort of life as well while I was writing. That's the advantage of a traditional nine–to–five job. You don't have the same flexibility to your schedule, but when work is over, it's over. I read about a writer who did all her work in the morning, and then had the rest of the day free. I thought that sounded like a great plan. I decided I'd write from nine to two—a good five hours—and then the dreaded page count would be behind me. Then, I told myself, I could really enjoy the writing life. That's when I discovered something about myself… I can't write in the morning. I tried. I really tried. But I literally felt like I was trying to hold a beach ball under water. I could barely get myself to sit down in front of the computer. I found that even if it sounds like a perfect plan, it might not be perfect for you.
After a few months of this disastrous schedule, I happened upon a piece that described the writing routine of Donald E. Westlake. Apparently he wrote from 10 at night until 4 in the morning. This is how he described working at night: "It's like being in the basket of a blimp, working at that hour. It's wonderful. There's just one little room with me in it, and I'm sailing through the night wherever the story will go. Just me, alone."
The next day I was telling my sister how great it would be if I could do that because the pages I wrote at night always came so much easier. And she said, "Well, why can't you?" Sometimes we need the people close to us to point out the obvious. So that's how I wrote my second book. At night. And it felt just like Donald Westlake described it. Before it had been a struggle to get myself to the computer. But now I found that it wasn't hard at all to sit down at nine or ten at night and start. I'd never been able to find the focus to just sit and write continually for several hours at a stretch, and all of a sudden I could write for three, four, five hours without even a break. I might even venture to say that sometimes the words seemed to flow onto the page.
But there was a problem with this setup. Being a writer is an isolating experience in itself. Working at night only compounds that sense of being out of step with the rest of the world. I'd start out the week writing from nine pm to two in the morning, and with eight hours of sleep I'd be up by ten, which wasn't so bad. But every night I'd stay up later and later until after a few weeks I'd still be up writing when the sun came up. That meant the writing was going well, but again, my life suffered.
For the next book I tried something new. I got the idea from reading about yet another writer's trick called the buddy system. It works the same way that a workout partner does. You and a friend set certain times to get together and write. So a writer friend of mine agreed to try it with me, and that worked very well (at least for the early parts of the book). I've found that I could even manage some writing in the morning, though I never got that same sense of focus that I do at night. But the best thing about it is the companionship. It was nice to sit next to someone while you're working—to be able to take a fifteen minute break and chat with the person sitting next to you. In a strange way, it makes it feel more legitimate. More like a "real" job.
Of course all of these strategies would be more difficult for someone who already has a "real" job and is trying to write in their off hours. When I was working and trying to write at night instead of setting a page count, I'd set a time limit. I'd tell myself I'd write (or at least sit in front of the computer) for at least one hour every day. Another helpful tip was to set a timer for an hour, sit at your desk for that entire hour until the alarm goes off, and don't allow yourself to do anything else for that period of time.
There are all sorts of good ideas out there. But the reality is that how you write best is extremely personal. Everyone has their own quirks. Some write longhand. Some on typewriters. Some on computers. Some people need absolute quiet. Others prefer to have background noise. Some write only in the morning. Others only at night. My advice is to try things out. See what suits you. And let me know if you come across anything new. I'm always looking for good advice.