WRITING AND YOUR LIFESTYLE

‘To nurture your talent requires considerable discipline, for there are many other good things you will not have time to do if you are serious about your creativity.’

(Marilee Zedenek: The Right Brain Experience)

There are also many not-so-good things which you will not have time to do – or may feel forced to do instead. It’s amazing how compelling the laundry or this year’s first cleaning of the car can feel when you’re having trouble with starting your writing project.

How important is writing to you?

List all your current projects and activities. Rate the significance of each one on a scale of 1-10, then list them again in order of importance.

• Where does writing come on this list?
• How does this affect the way you feel about your workspace and work time?

Organise your workspace

Do you need silence or do you, as Peter Ustinov did, find it unbearable? Do you need to be free from distractions, or can you work at the kitchen table while your two-year-old plays football with the saucepans? Do you need everything neatly labelled and filed, or do you prefer cheerful clutter? How important is the decor?

• Take a few moments to imagine your ideal workspace – no restrictions.
• Make this workspace the subject of a five-minute timed writing.
• In your present circumstances, how close can you come to that ideal?
• Make this compromise workspace the subject of a second timed writing.

Claim your territory

You may have to share this space with others. How protective do you feel about the area or areas you use?

• How do you mark your boundaries so that others do not encroach on them?
• Are you clear about your needs for space and privacy?
• How assertive are you in defending these needs?

For many of us this territorial aspect of the workspace is very important, and needs addressing. Having to worry that papers might be moved, read, damaged – even accidentally thrown away, is a most unwelcome distraction.

If you have your own work room, are you making full use of the freedom this allows you? Has it occurred to you that you can do anything you like in there? For example, writing on the walls and ceiling can be very liberating – perhaps chunking ideas (as in Figure 1). The result feels amazing – like sitting inside your own brain.

• Take a few moments to think about ways of using your space more creatively.
• Write a list of the things you will do to bring this about.
• Take action.

Go walkabout

Having organised your workspace and settled in, make sure it does not eventually become a new rut. Try working somewhere else occasionally – a change of scene can help ideas to flow. Even a different part of the house can feel surprisingly adventurous when you have got used to one particular location.

If you really want to trigger your imagination, try some of the places you chose in childhood – behind the sofa, in a wardrobe, in the cupboard under the stairs. (Does this sound like a daft idea? Would it help to know that at least two well-known and respected authors write underneath their dining room tables?) In an article called ‘Where I Like to Write’ {Author’s Copyright and Lending Society News, February 2005) author Carol Lee describes sitting on a polishing box by the fire when writing in her childhood home. She emphasises the importance to her of finding just the right place.

‘People try to become everything except a song. They want to become rich, powerful, famous. But – they lose all qualities that can make their life joyous; they lose all cheerfulness, they become serious.’

(Osho Morning Contemplation)

Wanting to be somewhere else

Do you sometimes feel you need to be somewhere else entirely – then if you manage to get there, find it is not right either? Does isolation make you long for company and vice versa? Do you rent a cottage by the sea, and end up writing in a cafe in the centre of town? I thought it was only me!’ other writers will probably say if you ever confess. It is very likely that this yearning for something we cannot have, is a necessary part of the creative process. Once, when writing a certain story, I felt compelled to stay in a seaside boarding house up north, in winter. The arrangements I had to make in order to do so were considerable. I stuck it for just one day. Now I use my imagination to go where I yearn to go. This is quicker, cheaper and far less disappointing.

Organise your work time

Does your time feel as though it is structured for you, or do you set your own schedule? We have seen how timed writing can help in both situations. We have also looked at scheduling a writing day around regular breaks. If you are used to working for someone else, both self-motivation and time-management may feel difficult at first. The leisure-time writing habit may also be difficult to kick, so that you find you are writing all day every day and exhausting yourself. Is this something you need to change?

Whether you are fitting writing in or fitting other things in around writing, some organisational skill will be needed. As with your workspace, your work time needs to be claimed and marked out in some way. Those around you will need to know any ‘rules’ that apply to your writing time. If you live alone, make your writing hours known to friends, neighbours or anyone else who might call round. Let the answering machine take all your calls. Place a ‘do not disturb’ notice on the front door if necessary.

• Think about any areas of tension affecting your writing time. How can you reduce these?
• Do a five-minute timed writing about the steps you will take to achieve this.
• Take action.

Research

Does your schedule allow plenty of time for any research you need to do? How do you feel about research? It need not mean hours spent in the library. Active research, immersing yourself in the place where your story is to be set, is likely to be more enjoyable and will help you to bring the setting to life for your readers. Novelist Marjorie Darke recommends conversing with ‘anyone in the locality who can increase my background knowledge.’ She also aims to share as many of her characters’ experiences as possible. While researching Ride the Iron Horse, for example, she took part in a traction engine race. Similarly Peter Vincent spent many hours as a leisure centre user while doing initial research for The Brittas Empire, and Canadian writer Jo Davis thoroughly indulged her passion for trains while working on Not a Sentimental Journey.

Novelist Alison Harding describes research as ‘a sort of radar that picks up on things you need to know and draws your attention to them’. This radar also seems to work subliminally. Alison, in common with a number of writers, has often had the experience of inventing a happening in relation to a certain place, researching the location and finding that a similar event actually occurred there. I have several times invented a name for a character and had someone of that name enter my life shortly afterwards.

Reading

Make sure your schedule also includes plenty of time for reading – particularly the type of material you like to write. In order to be part of the ‘writing world’, you need to know what is happening in your chosen field. What appeals to you? What is selling? Who is publishing it? A particular joy of being a writer is that you can feel positively virtuous about being an obsessive reader.

Checklist

• What do you need in terms of time and space for writing?
• How can you best get these needs met?
• How will you make this clear to those around you?
• What role might your imagination play?
• Have you allowed plenty of time for reading and other research?

Stay in touch with the rest of the world

One of writing’s many paradoxes is that it is an isolated activity through which we reach out to others. It is a way of making our voice heard in the world. So how might the other half of that dialogue be conducted? Joining a group or a class is one very good way. Becoming an active member of some of the many writers’ websites (see Useful addresses and websites) is another excellent way (but beware, this can also become very distracting!). Reading the papers, watching the news, and conversing with a variety of people can also be helpful.

Do you read your first drafts to other people and value their response – or do you prefer to internalise the energy at this early stage?

Whatever your choice, the most important question is does it work for you!