About three years ago, two members of the Girl Group were struggling with the problem of how to write what they wanted to write. Each knew her topic and her general subject matter but could not decide how to shape the material into a coherent structure for a book-length work. Both writers were making outlines, outlines, and more outlines.
They were getting nowhere, but they were convinced that if only they could get the outlines “right” they’d be able to start their manuscripts. The deeper problem, though, was that each was coming down from a grueling year of issues that had nothing to do with the writing they wanted to be doing. Neither could find focus because their heads were still full of leftover overload.
Every writer has been there. For some writers, writing is the way to work themselves out of a headful of junk; for other writers, trying to write before they clear out the mess is an exercise in futility. Another way of saying this: some writers respond to more pressure; other writers have to get free of pressure before ideas begin to flow again. And for yet other writers, a little of each can get them moving forward—a three-hour push of writing followed by a bike ride or choir practice or a movie.
You probably know (or think you know) which kind of writer you are. I wasn’t sure, at that time, which category either of these two GG members belonged to, but they definitely needed an assignment that would give them a jolt.
What you need is a change of plan, not a change of outline. I would like each of you to put aside for the moment all notions of work and think only of play. I would like each of you to write only something that is fun and pleasurable. No heavy dissections of life, no complex behavioral analyses. Let all that go for the moment.
Sit down and write something that delights you. Something frivolous or funny or sexy or silly. It might be about food or clothes or your childhood best friend. The first time you French-kissed. The best manicure you ever had. How much you hated your English teacher or your sibling. Anything that you will enjoy writing about. That’s your assignment.
Many painters—when they’ve had too much of the heavy-duty painting—go back to simple, entertaining, undemanding media. Like paper and crayons. I’m suggesting that you do the same, for now. The point is to write, not to write War and Peace.
Free your mind; stop being so demanding. Being demanding will only freeze you up even more. Give your unconscious some recuperative time. While you’re writing things that give you pleasure (instead of torture), your psyche will be relaxing and hatching new ideas.
Did these two woman take my excellent advice? They did not. What we found out simply by my suggesting that they lighten up for a while was that they weren’t experiencing resistance or avoidance; they were just confused, running in place. They needed to be shoved into making a choice, and giving them an assignment forced them into choosing: do I want to play for a while or do I want to take on the bigger work?
Neither of them wanted to lighten up: the very idea of lightening up and having fun shocked them. Gave them a jolt. They swung into gear, ditched the obsessive outlining, and started writing.
Does that mean my advice was bad? It does not. My advice was good—for someone who needs a time-out to try something different before returning to her primary work. If you’re that person and you’re obsessing over some part of your work, consider giving yourself a temporary writing assignment that will help you break out of repetitive writing behavior.
MONDAY’S POST will be “The jolt, part 2: 15 temporary writing assignments to jolt you out of whatever you need jolting out of.” Don’t miss it.
FYI / Independent Bookstores from Coast to Coast
Left Bank Books, St. Louis, MO
Galaxy Bookshop, Hardwick, VT
Hicklebee’s, San Jose, CA