Scott Craven's Blog - Posts Tagged "writing-tricks-book-finish"
Writing as routine
When I sat down more than five years ago to write a book for the first time, all I wanted to do was stick with it long enough to finish it. Writing a book is quite an accomplishment, right? How many people start one and never finish? I'm thinking, "Tons."
A friend of mine recently told me he's started doing some writing. His youngest just started school, so the stay-at-home dad now has five mornings free a week. Just one problem -- as much as he wants to write, he can't sit down for hours and dedicate himself to it.
Years ago I attended a lecture by author Ron Carlson, who then taught creative writing at Arizona State. I remember nothing of what he said except this -- "Before you sit down to write, dump a pile of dirt by your chair. Face the computer, hands on the keyboard. If you would rather clean that dirt than write, you're not ready. You have to get yourself to a place where that dirt can stay there for days, weeks."
The only way I was going to write a book was to ignore that metaphorical dirt. The only way that was going to happen was to adhere to a schedule.
Every Saturday and Sunday morning, after walking the dog and doing a few chores, I plopped myself in front of the computer and wrote. The deal I made for myself was this – writing to at least 2 p.m. and at least 500 words. Without fail I made that goal. Best weekend was around 4,000 words (when I finished the third book, plowing through the final scenes). Worst was just about 500. But every weekend I wrote without fail.
Another trick I used was to leave off at a point where the story's course was clear. I looked forward to the next bout of writing.
But there were many days I sat down having no idea where the plot was going. I filled time by surfing the web, toasting a couple cherry Pop Tarts, writing a few emails, and knowing all the while my self-imposed deadline loomed. So I started tapping stuff out. More often than not it was garbage, but about 300 words in everything started to make sense. I’d go back and rewrite the crap, and often I’d finish the day with 1,000 pretty halfway-decent words. Once that routine was established, I knew I wouldn’t feel very good if I skipped a day. So I didn’t.
I finished that book in six months. As I unnecessarily burned through ink to print it out, just to hold it in my hand, I felt an amazing sense of accomplishment.
For at least a week.
Then I thought, "Would anyone want to read this?"
That lead to a far different journey.
A friend of mine recently told me he's started doing some writing. His youngest just started school, so the stay-at-home dad now has five mornings free a week. Just one problem -- as much as he wants to write, he can't sit down for hours and dedicate himself to it.
Years ago I attended a lecture by author Ron Carlson, who then taught creative writing at Arizona State. I remember nothing of what he said except this -- "Before you sit down to write, dump a pile of dirt by your chair. Face the computer, hands on the keyboard. If you would rather clean that dirt than write, you're not ready. You have to get yourself to a place where that dirt can stay there for days, weeks."
The only way I was going to write a book was to ignore that metaphorical dirt. The only way that was going to happen was to adhere to a schedule.
Every Saturday and Sunday morning, after walking the dog and doing a few chores, I plopped myself in front of the computer and wrote. The deal I made for myself was this – writing to at least 2 p.m. and at least 500 words. Without fail I made that goal. Best weekend was around 4,000 words (when I finished the third book, plowing through the final scenes). Worst was just about 500. But every weekend I wrote without fail.
Another trick I used was to leave off at a point where the story's course was clear. I looked forward to the next bout of writing.
But there were many days I sat down having no idea where the plot was going. I filled time by surfing the web, toasting a couple cherry Pop Tarts, writing a few emails, and knowing all the while my self-imposed deadline loomed. So I started tapping stuff out. More often than not it was garbage, but about 300 words in everything started to make sense. I’d go back and rewrite the crap, and often I’d finish the day with 1,000 pretty halfway-decent words. Once that routine was established, I knew I wouldn’t feel very good if I skipped a day. So I didn’t.
I finished that book in six months. As I unnecessarily burned through ink to print it out, just to hold it in my hand, I felt an amazing sense of accomplishment.
For at least a week.
Then I thought, "Would anyone want to read this?"
That lead to a far different journey.
