Finding Focus as a Writer
When we lived in the country, with windows looking onto a lake, visitors often exclaimed over the view, saying, “How perfect for a writer! You must draw so much inspiration from this spot.”
Rather than disappoint them or disabuse them of their romantic notions about a writer’s life and work, I would just smile. The reality is that the exterior view is irrelevant to the creative process. In fact, a beautiful scene is more of a distraction than an inspiration. Writing is interior work. It is all about going inside one’s head, fighting past resistance and inertia and doing the hard work of thinking. If only it were as easy as sipping tea, admiring a lovely scene, and waiting for ideas to gently float down and settle on me!
In order to create I find it necessary to shut out the outside world completely until it ceases to exist for me. The outside and inside worlds are parallel universes. True, I am the connecting door, but I must commit to being on either one side or the other at a time.
As long as I feed on the junk food of distraction—t.v., Facebook, email, entertainment, daily tasks—I avoid the satisfying nourishment that comes as a result of focus.
Lectures by other writers about hard work and self-discipline don’t have the intended effect, any more than being nagged about diet and exercise motivate me to improve my health habits. I need to allow myself to write, not force myself to write.
So what does work?
Boredom has sometimes been a friend to me by creating an enforced stillness in the middle of my day. Some of my better poems have come from times when I was bored, held captive in a car or waiting room, with nothing to entertain me. To pass the time I was forced to take a closer look at my mundane surroundings until I began to see novel ways of looking at them. My temporary prison became a doorway into an interior world.
Decluttering my universe helps. By “my universe” I mean both my commitments and my thoughts. Overcommitting to activities, even hobbies, is a time-honoured method of avoidance and procrastination. By keeping myself overly busy, I can look virtuous while evading the effort of thinking and creating—much in the same way I once avoided studying for an exam by vacuuming the car. I am learning to pare away busywork in its various forms to honour my chosen vocation of writing; and it is a liberating experience.
My inner universe can be another bramble bush that discourages me from forging ahead. False guilt about what I “should” be doing, envy of other writers, discouragement, ambition, self-doubt—all form a daunting barrier to the clarity and peace I need in order to focus. Whether through journaling these thoughts, self-talk, or thought-stopping, I need to remove the burrs one by one to give myself permission to write freely.
Finding locations and situations that are conducive to writing can make a difference. I have a standing weekly writing date with a friend every Friday morning. We meet at a coffee shop, catch up with each other for a few minutes, then get to work. We both find the silent companionship helps us get into the “zone.” It removes the isolation factor of writing that can be debilitating at times. (And if we occasionally break the rules and do more talking than writing, who’s to know?)
Having an “artist’s date” (a concept I learned from Julia Cameron) can also fill up my creative well and stimulate me when I’m foundering. Recently, attending a workshop on Spoken Word poetry inspired me to try a whole new approach to writing poems. A weekend workshop at an art gallery by a fabric artist moved me to write one of my strongest poems yet. The cross-pollination of other artists stretches and excites me to experiment in new directions. At minimum, it feeds me when I’m empty and renews my enthusiasm and energy.
What helps you to focus?
