Writing distractions abound when you’re not sure where to go next in your text. In college, when I’d get stuck writing a story or paper, I’d find myself drifting away from my pen and pad or my keyboard and monitor. I often paced, feeling wired with repressed energy, the wanting to say but not knowing what to say just yet. Somewhere along the way, though, that energy found another outlet: tidying up.
Yeah, I know. Probably the most perplexing form of procrastination ever.[*]
Because I’m not actually a neat freak. I don’t recommend eating off my floors (or anyone else’s). Frankly, writers tend toward untidy when they’re in progress (I literally spread notes everywhere). And last I checked, cleaning doesn’t get me to the conclusion faster–especially when the deadline is looming. Nonetheless, some deep subconscious place in my brain insists that the glacial white of an empty screen must be matched by clean countertops. That, when I need to give my text a think-through, I should also clear away the clutter.
Fine, brain. Be that way.
This summer, though, I had an epiphany during an online writing course I undertook. Of all the writing classes I’ve done, it was the first that focused more on how I wrote versus what I wrote. In particular, we (the class) individually examined facets of our writing process. As I worked on a story and thought about my characters, I once again found myself frustrated with how I slipped away and did something else while I puzzled over how my scene should unfold. And then I realized that when I ran away from my screen to clean…I was still writing my story. Apparently, I’m also not the only person with this approach, either.
So, not procrastination? Well, sort of.
I also know now that I wander off when I’m not writing well or I don’t feel comfortable with what I’m writing[†] as well as when the real world disrupts me (#Election 2016). In this case, I consciously decide whether I take a writing break or shift onto other, more productive writing tasks. Instead of worrying or procrastinating, I research topics or plan new projects. Or I take a break and clear my head (and my desk). When I come back, I am more confident and readier to write.
As for thinking through my writing process? It was worthwhile, because knowing how I write helps me write better by harnessing the moments when it’s not going well.[‡]
Do you have an unusual writing habit? Post in the comment section below! Also, sign-up to the Sequences’s newsletter to keep current with the latest posts.
NOTES:
[*] But I did need to do laundry, so that’s a win. Not for the blog, but for the general public.
[†] Like writing my first blog post ever. You know that I-don’t-know-anyone-at-the-party-but-the-hostess feeling that introverts get when they have to meet new people because introductions are awkward? Yeah, I feel that way right now, because this is essentially an introduction. My “Hello, world!”, you might say. So, hello!
[‡] Laundry: Two loads
Dishwasher: Emptied and reloaded
Table: Washed and cleared away
Notes: Spread out, lost, and tidied more times than I want to count
Pacing: 6000+ steps
And yes, these footnotes are both inspired by and an homage to the late Terry Pratchett.
Rita E. Gould: An Artful Sequence of Words 