#1 and #2 of 10 Foolproof (Nearly) Tricks Toward More Self-Disciplined Writing Time
January 15, 2011
#1—Know the Struggles
of the
Hard-Working Writers
Who’ve Gone Before You
NOT the ones who became overnight successes, you understand. There have been only two of these in recorded history anyway. The rest of the world’s writers are all people who’ve labored away in cold, musty closets, who’ve foregone lunch hour with friends and spent it instead with vending machine Cheez-Its and a laptop, who’ve dragged themselves home from a day job and made meatloaf and tucked the kids into bed and THEN, long after dark, begun to write for the day. So remind yourself if self-pity or laziness threatens: you get to call yourself a writer ONLY if you are writing. Regularly. No whining allowed.
Early twentieth-century novelist Edith Wharton was independently wealthy enough (be sure to add visiting her Lenox, Massachusetts, estate, The Mount, to your Bucket List, by the way) to stay ensconced in her bedroom and write for hours before lunch, with her servants traipsing up to deliver breakfast. Personally, I’m a little more short-staffed than that. And 
if you are, too, that puts us in the excellent company of 99.9% of writers who are trying or who have become established writers, who keep to a schedule of writing and still do their own dishes.
#2—Create an Internal Colonel
to Whom You Must Answer
I suggest this cautiously, since most of us actually need to turn OFF those militant voices that kick in when we sit down to write (You call THAT an opening sentence? You do realize that character is a total cliché, right? Checked the stats lately for how many writers actually make a living at this?) But when it comes to setting up a TIME TO WRITE AND STICKING TO IT, most of us need somebody to show up with a uniform and large, loaded firearm.
My neighbor, a retired army colonel, was recently in charge of our community pool, and we all adored his approach. Because it took someone politely ruthless to keep roving bands of teenagers from sneaking in after hours. He had cameras installed so he could monitor pool activity even when he was out of town. Lifeguards caught texting rather than watching for small, struggling children in the deep end were taken and…let’s just say they were never heard from again. No excuses accepted. Effective? And how.
So install your own Internal Colonel and let him—or her—show up, armed, when you try rolling over in bed rather than crawling out, dropping ten, and groping your way to your writing desk.
More Foolproof (Nearly) Tricks coming soon…. And let us hear what’s worked (and hasn’t) for you!
No related posts.
Related posts brought to you by Yet Another Related Posts Plugin.
Comments
Comments
Leave a Reply
Connect with Joy
This is perfect. Except that my internal Colonel is jumpy and demands I make him spaghetti three times a day.
No wait, that’s my son.
Okay.
I’m good.
Ah, that little angel, your son. I know HE would never infringe on his mother’s precious writing time….