Finding My Writing Flow

Mike Tinnion from Unsplash

It’s Easy to Be Distracted From Writing

With all of the stresses in the world these days, there are times when I have to reach a bit to find my creativity. Some days, especially when writing is a struggle, I worry that I have used up every ounce of creativity I have, which of course is silly. As Maya Angelou said, “You can’t use up creativity. The more you use, the more you have.”

Here are some thoughts about what I learned about finding my writing flow. These are my lessons. Your lessons are your own to discover.

I Have a No-Routine Routine

This isn’t really a lesson, but that’s part of what we must become comfortable with when we choose to live a creative life. We can look at examples from others we admire, but in the end, we need to decide what works for us. We can read lists about the routines of famous writers like this one from Medium.com and this one from Brain Pickings. I love to see how these crazy-talented humans crafted routines that allowed them to create brilliant works of art. 

Of course, my favorite is from my main man, Charles Dickens. Here’s what Medium.com said about Dickens’ unvaried writing routine:

Dickens’s working hours were invariable. His eldest son recalled that “no city clerk was ever more methodical or orderly than he; no humdrum, monotonous, conventional task could ever have been discharged with more punctuality or with more business-like regularity, than he gave to the work of his imagination and fancy.”

He rose at 7:00, had breakfast at 8:00, and was in his study by 9:00. He stayed there until 2:00, taking a brief break for lunch with his family, during which he often seemed to be in a trance, eating mechanically and barely speaking a word before hurrying back to his desk.

On an ordinary day he could complete about two thousand words in this way, but during a flight of imagination he sometimes managed twice that amount. Other days, however, he would hardly write anything; nevertheless, he stuck to his work hours without fail, doodling and staring out the window to pass the time.

Promptly at 2:00, Dickens left his desk for a vigorous three-hour walk through the countryside or the streets of London, continuing to think of his story and, as he described it, “searching for some pictures I wanted to build upon.” Returning home, his brother-in-law remembered, “he looked the personification of energy, which seemed to ooze from every pore as from some hidden reservoir.” Dickens’s nights, however, were relaxed: he dined at 6:00, then spent the evening with family or friends before retiring at midnight.

Just so you know, I’m not walking for three hours along the streets of Las Vegas in any season.

I Prefer To Do Things In My Own Time

Unlike Dickens, I don’t always like to do the same thing at the same time each day. I get to work when I get to work, and that works for me. Anne Lamott says we should write at the same time every day because it tricks our brains into kicking into gear. Maya Angelou said something similar. If a routine works for you, then go for it (remember, this is about what works for you, not anyone else).

I have an inherent recalcitrance which means that I can’t be told what to do, even if I’m the one telling myself to do it. I had that problem a number of times this year. Someone would say to me “Do this” and my response was generally, “Yeah, that’s not gonna happen.”

I don’t do well with hours blocked out on a Google Calendar saying what time I’m supposed to work on my new novel or what time I’m supposed to edit a chapter. There were times when I’d create the events on the calendar and then never look at the calendar again since I didn’t care what it said. I’ll write when I feel like writing. So there Google Calendar!

Instead of plotting out my hours, I give myself one or two tasks per day. That’s it. When I get my tasks done, life is good. Two tasks a day might not sound like much, but it’s enough for me to make progress every day, and that’s what I’m looking for—progress.

Yesterday my two tasks were first, to finish sending out the author copies for the wonderful writers and poets who shared their work with The Copperfield Review’s second anthology of historical fiction, Made By History.

My second task was to review three chapters of The Duchess of Idaho. The manuscript is in final edits so I’m in the fiddly stage where I spend 30 minutes adding and subtracting the same comma. I accomplished what I wished and though you can’t see me, I’m doing a happy dance. It’s a grandfather happy dance, but still, it’s a happy dance.

All is well with my soul and now I have time to read, color in my new paisley design coloring book, brush Poppy (my cat), and watch the white-pink-gold desert sunsets we’re lucky enough to have here in Vegas.

I Use Notebooks

I mean the real kind with real paper that you write in with real pens. In Writing Down the Bones, Natalie Goldberg talks about getting goofy notebooks with cartoon characters and funny pictures on the covers. Her rationale is it’s harder to take yourself seriously when you’re writing in a Disney notebook.

I’ve always loved that idea. Writing Down the Bones was originally published in the 1970s, long before technology invaded every aspect of our lives; for me, Goldberg’s message resonates even more strongly today.

Some time ago I realized that my thoughts were getting lost and I was losing track of ideas (currency for an artist). Which blog post did I want to share this week? What is the publicity schedule for my new book? Which interviews do I still need to respond to? I had a sense of what I needed to accomplish, but I had to find another way to keep track of everything.

Around the same time, I found some notebooks in a desk drawer (they were given to me as gifts). I finally started using them and it was like a whole new world opened up. I think my problem with notebooks (perfectionists will understand exactly what I’m talking about) is that I’m afraid of making mistakes and having to cross out things and leaving ugly scratches whereas in a digital file I can delete the mistakes without having to look at them again.

That was a good lesson for me—it’s okay to cross things out. I have one notebook for fiction and one for nonfiction writing ideas, one notebook that acts as a to-do list, which is where I write in my daily tasks, and one notebook that acts as a journal. In my to-do journal, I don’t add my daily tasks until after I finish working so I can see what I’ve accomplished and what still needs doing.

I saw some ideas for creating bullet journals on Pinterest so I tried using a bullet journal for my research on the Oregon Trail for The Duchess of Idaho. I’m pleased to say the experiment was a success. In April I’ll be writing a blog post explaining how it worked for those of you who are interested.

Finally…

I Now Have a Clearer Sense of What I Want to Accomplish

I have a clear vision for what I want to write. After DOI is published at the end of the month it’s right back to the Wentworths’ world with another Loving Husband story. I also have an idea for my next nonfiction book about creativity and storytelling.

Maybe this contradicts what I said earlier about not having a routine, but not really. I’m not talking about scheduling tasks into neat little hour blocks. I begin by I’m looking at the ideas for my next writing projects (written in my handy-dandy notebook, of course). Then I’m deciding what I want to write next, and then I schedule one or two tasks a day that allow me to reach that goal.

What do you think?

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.