by Rachel Toalson | This Writer Life
Last week I talked about the six reasons you shouldn’t write a book, but if you’re still with me this week and you still really want to write that book, there is one thing you can do that will ensure you actually accomplish your goal, and it’s this:
Make writing a habit.
I know it sounds like making writing a habit will extract any kind of creativity from the writing process, but I assure you that this is not in the least bit true. Writers cannot simply write when inspiration hits them. We must write consistently and unceasingly, and I’ll tell you why in a minute.
[Tweet “Writers can’t just write when inspiration hits. They must write consistently & unceasingly.”]
First, I’ll say that for the last five years, I have woken at 4:15 in the morning to squeeze in thirty minutes of daily writing, which I call my morning pages. These pages are awful. They’re a warmup to my other writing, and they will never see the light of day. Ever. I write about dreams, worries, work, kids, laundry, anything and everything. Once I have downloaded these mundane musings, I have a wide open space available for my creative writing.
Outside of these morning pages, I write for an average of 3.5 hours a day. I set my timer for two hours and crank out as many words as I can manage for my current fiction project. Once that timer goes off, I set another one for an hour and a half and write on my latest nonfiction project.
Writing has become my habit.
This is the single most important thing you can do for your career.
[Tweet “The single most important thing you can do for your writing career is make writing a habit.”]
Here are some reasons that writing consistently, essentially turning writing into a habit, can benefit you.
1. It tells your brain that writing is important to you.
This sounds a little meta, but bear with me. When your brain realizes that you’re doing this thing every single day for a certain amount of time, it starts to take notice. Neurons start to wire and fire together. Your brain will do you favors and begin to make connections where you didn’t know they existed. You will see story ideas everywhere. You will never run out of ideas, and your brain will also be fired up and ready to write the moment you begin, because it is already anticipating this moment.
2. It allows you time to practice.
We don’t get better at anything without practice. The greatest writers did not become great because they suddenly woke up one morning and decided they’d like to be a writer. Toni Morrison did not crank out Beloved on the first try. She wrote consistently for years.
3. It creates a habit loop, which allows you to reach flow easier and faster.
Once your writing is lodged in the habit loop, you don’t have to think much about beginning and ending. You just open your computer and start writing. Your brain is already on your side. Writer’s block? Consistency doesn’t allow or recognize it.
So what I want you to do this week is set aside some time for writing every day. If you have to wake at 4 a.m. to write, do it. Your brain and your writing will thank you.
Keep doing this over and over for at least 30 days, until the habit is forged. There are some days that writing will feel hard, but you can’t give up. Even if you only manage a couple hundred words in a ridiculous amount of time, keep writing. Your willpower will grow stronger every day, and, besides, there’s always tomorrow to fix what you massacred today.
3 ways to make writing a habit:
1. Do it every day.
When we do something every day, we signal to our brain that this thing is important. This causes our brain to be constantly on the lookout for new things to write about, new connections to make, new possibilities and techniques. Our brain begins to fire as a writer’s brain does.
2. Do it at the same time.
Writing at the same time every day helps our brains latch on to the routine. Did you know that the brain thrives on routine? Neuroscience has proven this. So pick a time, get out a notebook (or your computer) and set a timer if you have to. When you write at the same time every day, you make it much easier for your brain to reach a state of flow.
3. Reward yourself for consistency.
Rewarding yourself for your efforts helps you more firmly establish a habit loop. Reward yourself with affirmations about how awesome it is that you just finished a week of writing consistently. Reward yourself by taking an hour away to read a book. Reward yourself with some chocolate. Just make sure your brain knows that the reward is connected to your writing efforts, and it will pay you back the next time you sit down to write.
Week’s prompt
“The best revenge is massive success.”
—Frank Sinatra
Write about what success looks like, what it means, its hold over your (or a character’s) life.
by Rachel Toalson | This Writer Life
I meet a lot of people who respond to discovering that I’m an author with, “I really want to write a book.” I take these comments in stride, because writing a book isn’t for everyone. But some people are more persistent than others, asking questions and digging a little deeper. I don’t mind this at all. What I do mind is what I think happens pretty often when we think of writing a book, and it is this: romanticizing the process.
[Tweet “When we romanticize the process of writing a book, we diminish the work authors put in.”]
When we romanticize the process, we essentially diminish the work that all authors put into their craft. When someone says they’d like to write a book this year and it’s already December 1, I feel myself mentally shaking my head a little. Writing a book takes time and intention and practice, and many don’t understand this. They think you get an idea, you write, and then it’s done.
But that couldn’t be farther from the truth.
So, in the interest of truth telling, I wanted to list six reasons why you might not want to write a book.
1. You’re not willing to put in a LOT of effort and time.
Writing a book is really hard work. My books take me hours upon hours to write, revise and perfect. And even then, the writing is not done, which we’ll get to in a minute. If you’re not willing to put in a lot of effort and time, this is not the thing for you, at least not right now.
2. You’re not ready to write consistently and plan obsessively.
Writing a book also doesn’t just happen sporadically. An idea is step 1. There are many steps after that where you draw out the idea and brainstorm and write a first draft and write another draft and another and another. Some ideas take years to flesh out. I have a middle grade series that’s been stewing for about eight years now. It might take eight more to get it to a point where it’s more than just a vague concept. What many don’t realize about ideas is that in order for them to be turned into a book, they first have to be conceptualized and planned. And that’s where many falter.
[Tweet “A book idea is Step 1 of writing a book. There are many, many more steps.”]
3. You want to check it off your list and be done with it.
Some novice writers erroneously believe that writing The End on their manuscript is actually the end. But there is much more that goes into it, because writing a book doesn’t magically publish a book. There are decisions that must be made—should I self publish, should I work toward traditional publishing—and a whole host of steps that follow each of those decisions. In fact, most books feel like they’re never done. If you’re someone who prefers closure, you’ll be spending most of your life uncomfortable.
4. Patience isn’t exactly your strong point.
Nothing in the writing world happens quickly. Everything is a long game. When I first started self-publishing books, I assumed that people would find me. And then I started digging into some resources and discovered that there’s a lot of work that has to be done in order to gain attention in the marketplace, and even if you have all the tools at your disposal, these things take time. People aren’t going to sit up and notice all at once. Not even in the traditional world—which, by the way, takes years to see any book published in the first place.
5. You’re not interested in evolving as a writer.
Writers must always be learning more about their craft, practicing what they’ve learned and growing in their expertise. I happen to really enjoy learning new things, but it’s not for everyone—and if you don’t enjoy learning more about your craft and you don’t enjoy researching random subjects (for your books or for your pleasure), writing a book might not be for you.
6. You don’t have a greater purpose for writing.
Writing is mostly a mental game. So if you don’t have a greater purpose for writing, the days writing feels hard or you get a bad review or you feel invisible in the marketplace will cripple you. You have to have a why, and you have to know it inside and out.
If, after reading these reasons not to write a book, you still want to pick up your pen and try, here are the three most important things you can do to ensure that you’ll start and finish:
1. Develop a consistent writing habit.
There is nothing more important than committing to write every day in some way. If you have to get up at 4 a.m. to squeeze it in, then do it.
2. Read to learn.
Read the kind of books you want to write and books that teach you how to write. They’re both important for learning.
3. Know your why.
I keep mine on post-it notes stuck to my dresser mirror, where I stand every day and write (my standing desk is makeshift—but it works). If I get discouraged, I look at my why. If I feel stuck, I look at my why. If I wonder why in the world I decided to be a writer, I look at my why. Those post-it notes keep me grounded.
Writing a book seems glamorous. And maybe, in a certain way, it is. To take something that exists only as an idea and make it into something tangible and, hopefully, enjoyable is a wonderful thing. But, like anything else, it takes hard, persistent work.
Week’s prompt
“Saying nothing…sometimes says the most.”
—Emily DickinsonWrite about a silence that seems to be the loudest in the room or a sound that seems silent because of its regular presence.
by Rachel Toalson | This Writer Life
In the wake of any big news item of interest or an issue of note or, say, a political election, the Internet is always filled with blogs and essays and informational articles that feature opinions, facts, opinions matched with facts and, in some cases, just plain vitriol. We don’t have to look far to find all of these things.
Back in November, when the election was happening and tempers were flying and all sorts of words were had on both sides of the political equation, a writer friend of mine posted on a forum that all writers should be careful with what they post in regards to the election, because our readers could be turned off by our words. In some ways I agree with this. In others, I don’t.
In all of history, writers have had a measurable hand in shaping society. This is part of our DNA. Some of us, in fact, pick up the pen because it’s powerful and we can effect change. I worked as a journalist for many years and was always, always humbled by the power my words had to shift public opinion and make a difference in the world. That is no small responsibility.
So, because that is no small responsibility, we must also take great care with our words. Of course I’m not suggesting that we censor anything or that we don’t communicate in the way we want to communicate. But, as a writer, one of my goals is to create a force of good in the world. When I disagree with public opinion or I see something that’s disturbing to me, I will respond to it. But I will respond in love. I take great care with the words that I speak, because I want to make sure that even if people do not agree with the words I write, they at least hear me.
When we are speaking from anger or frustration or any other potentially inflammatory emotion, we are much less likely to be heard. Same goes for writing.
[Tweet “If we write in anger or with spite or to humiliate, we won’t be heard. Love gains an audience.”]
It takes a while to get good at this sort of thing. Trust me. I wasn’t always good at letting things go, cooling my emotions before I fired off a response to something I thought was completely ridiculous or unnecessary or dishonorable to our fellow human beings.
Writers have a responsibility to their public. We have a responsibility to tell the truth, yes. But we also have a responsibility to tell the truth—our truth—in love. Always in love. We can have our dissenting, unpopular opinions, but if we present them in a way that dishonors others or walks the line of anger or disgust rather than passion and humility, we will be much less effective in our quest to move the hearts of our readers.
The question that writers encounter in the aftermath of any noteworthy event in the world is: Should I write about this? Should I share my story? Should I enter the already crowded word-sphere? And if we decide to enter it, we also have an unspoken duty to tell our whole truth, in humility always, so that others might be educated, empowered or transformed.
[Tweet “Writers have a duty to share their truth in humility and love. That’s how we’ll effect change.”]
When I think of this duty, I think of Sue Klebold’s book, A Mother’s Reckoning. I read this book a few months ago and have recommended it to everyone I know as one of the bravest books I’ve ever read. Klebold was the mother of Columbine shooter Dylan Klebold, who committed suicide in April 1999 after going down in history as one of the boys who killed more students at his high school than any other school shooter or bomber.
It took Klebold 15 years to break her silence. She did not write the book to absolve herself of any responsibility in the killings. She did not write the book to avenge herself or her family or the mistakes they may have made in the past. She did not write the book to make the public see Dylan differently. She wrote the book so that other parents would be empowered to recognize the signs of tragic depression in their children and get help before it was too late. Her book is saving lives.
That is the power of a writer’s pen.
Week’s prompt
Write about duplicity and authenticity. Who in your world (whether fictional or nonfictional) seems as though they juggle multiple lives? Who is brutally honest about themselves, almost to a fault? Which of the two do you prefer? What does it mean to be duplicitous and authentic?
Dig into yourself. Where do you fall on the duplicity/authenticity scale?
by Rachel Toalson | This Writer Life
My days are pretty crazy. I’m a mom of six boys, and I juggle a writing business. My time is very parceled out, and my goals tend to be carefully detailed and intricately wrought, because I have to use whatever time I have to do what needs to be done.
That means there isn’t usually a whole lot of margin time to celebrate.
For a while, I thought this was okay. Who needs to celebrate the little things, after all? I have my goals. I’ll celebrate when I actually achieve them.
The problem, though, is that big goals usually take a while to meet. That’s why they’re called big goals, right? So that means we have quite a bit of time and space between when we set our big goal and when we actually accomplish it.
What can happen during this space if we’re not careful is that we begin to forget that the tasks we do every single day are just as important as the actual accomplishment of a big goal. If my big goal is to write 2 million words, which was my goal for last year, every day I write any words at all is a major accomplishment (especially since my kids like to bust the door down to tell me about the cookie their friend gave them in the lunch room today). I forget the importance of these small steps when my vision is solely focused on hitting the 2 million word mark.
Now. I’m not saying that we celebrate every single day. That would make celebration seem too mundane and ordinary for our purposes. But last year, as I was on my way to hitting 2 million words, there were small victories in between that big goal. I published hundreds of blogs. My follower count grew. I released a bunch of books. Most of the time, I let the book launch day pass like it wasn’t really a big deal at all.
It was a big deal, though. Those words contained in the book and released out into the world shoved me one step closer to my big goal. That deserved a celebration.
If we forget the small celebrations in light of the big goals we make for our year, we are in danger of burnout. No one can indefinitely sustain the pace we have to sustain in order to reach big goals if we’re not marking our progress and celebrating the small victories along the way.
Maybe you don’t have a regular writing habit right now. Maybe your big goal is to write every day for a year. Maybe you get a couple of writing-every-day weeks under your belt. That’s worth a celebration. Maybe you’ve written a bunch of books but you’ve never really finished one, and you finally perfect one and release it out into the world. That’s something to celebrate. Maybe you get your 100th email subscriber on your way to 10,000. That’s something to celebrate.
Celebrations mark our path and show us that the small steps we take really do add up to make a difference.
Writing is not easy. We have a whole lot to overcome in our writing careers, not the least of which is our own mentality. Celebrations help us win this mental game so we always choose to continue on in spite of the obstacles stacked against us. We begin to appreciate the process instead of the end goal. And the process is what will make us writers.
[Tweet “Celebrations, however small the accomplishment, help us overcome our obstacles. So celebrate.”]
So as you begin to take steps toward your big goal in 2017, I want to encourage you to celebrate your small achievements. Oftentimes, this will be the difference between giving up and pressing on.
Week’s prompt
Write a personal essay about the color green. Tell what green has meant in your life—your earliest memories of it, your experiences with it when you were a teenager, what you think of it now. Talk about what you feel when you see the color green. Imagine what stories the color green might say about your life.
If you need it, use the picture below to help generate inspiration.
Photo by Sujan Sundaraswaran.
by Rachel Toalson | This Writer Life
This year I made it my goal to write 2 million words. I made this goal back in January, when I was struggling to find time at all to write, because of all the responsibilities that it takes to run a house of eight, manage healthy relationships and balance a fledgling business.
Honestly, I did not think it was possible to reach 2 million words, because of kids and time and so many responsibilities and the fact that I don’t have a clone. I just thought that this goal would set me firmly on my way to writing consistently and, I hoped, unceasingly.
Not only that, but I wanted this goal to frame my year, because I had decided beforehand that this was going to be a content year. I would create as much content as I possibly could so that it could be turned into books or blog posts or social media content or something that remained private, only for me and my family.
When I reached the month of November, which happens to be National Novel Writing Month (you might have participated), I only had about 30,000 words to go to achieve my goal. So I decided to smash it, and the way I would smash it was to make it my goal to write 150,000 words on a series project in the month of November, including a whole week of Sabbatical where I would not write at all—or, if I did, not toward this particular project.
I wrote 180,000 words on my project in November.
Okay, that’s great for me, but why am I telling you this? Because I believe you can do it, too.
Every year, as the old year is closing down and the new year is just beginning, I make a very comprehensive list of my goals for the next year. I do this with two-year goals and three-year-goals and five-year goals, although they’re not quite as intricate as the yearly goals are. But what these goals do for me is they frame an entire year and help me remember what it is I need to do to reach those goals.
I keep my goals on cork boards that sit on my desk. Every day, before I start work, I review them. I have them broken down into year goals, quarter goals, month goals, week goals, and everything I do is framed by these note cards.
My goals have changed a little over the course of this year, and that’s okay. What’s important is to start somewhere. Goals set us along the path to accomplishing what it is we really want to accomplish. They show us a starting place by providing a temporary ending place. They make the ridiculously impossible possible.
If you’re in this to be a career writer, the first place to start is a goal.
[Tweet “Goals make the ridiculously impossible possible. To accomplish anything, you must first have a goal.”]
So here are my best tips for making and accomplishing goals:
1. Think of what’s realistically possible and then add 20 percent.
This one’s really important. The first year I set goals, I set some really ridiculous ones, sort of like this word count goal. That’s not bad, but if you’re the kind of person who is very goal-motivated, it’s probably not the best thing to do. I tend to shift and shape my goals throughout the year, but if you’re the kind who dies hard to those goals you set six months ago, then you’ll want to asses what is first realistically possible.
How do you do this when you’re a writer? Well, you have to keep pretty extensive notes on how much you can write in a certain amount of time. I know that if I’m writing a rough draft, I can write between 5,000 and 6,000 words in an hour. Which means if I only have an hour every day five days a week, what is realistically possible is 25,000 words a week or 1.3 million words a year. Add 20 percent, and you have 1.6 million words for the year.
I know that if I’m writing a final draft, that number falls to about 2500 to 3,000 words in an hour.
So the first thing you’ll have to do in order to find what’s realistic is assess your own writing speed and what you’ll be writing. You can do this by keeping a log of your word count in a particular amount of time.
It’s also really important that you make your goals really concrete rather than abstract. “Write on novel 1 for one hour every day” is a much better goal than “Write sometime every day.” “Write 4,000 words on novel 1 for one hour every day” is even better than the first.
2. Make a plan.
Once you’ve written down all your goals for the year, focus in on either the largest goal that will take the most amount of time or the goal that’s farthest away.
If you start with the largest goal, break it down into manageable steps, and assign those steps to a month or a week or even a day if you want to get really detailed. Schedule it on your calendar, but don’t forget to break that really big goal into smaller steps. This is one of the most important things you can do.
If you decide start with the goal that’s farthest away, say, at the end of next year, work your way backward and set smaller goals for each month. My goal document has a “look ahead” section where I can see what’s coming in the next month and plan for that a month in advance. Planning is key to accomplishing goals. Do something every day toward your goal, and those small steps will get you there.
[Tweet “Do something every day toward your goal, and those small steps will get you there.”]
3. Evaluate.
Each week, Husband and I have about an hour-long conversation about our goals for the quarter, our goals for the month, our goals for the next week. We ask each other questions about how we did in the last week working toward our goals and what we can do differently in the coming week that will make us more efficient or focused. It helps to bounce all of this off each other and also have a partner in accountability.
Which leads me to the last point:
4. Invite someone into the process.
It’s really helpful to have someone help you refine your goals. It could be a partner, a parent, a friend, whoever you want it to be. When you’ve jotted down some goals, set a meeting with someone else and offer to listen to their goals if they’ll listen to yours. Sometimes the most creative things come out of meetings like this.
Goals are one of the most important tools for a writer’s business, so I hope you’ll attempt to make your own ridiculous goal for the next year. And when you achieve it, be sure and let me know.
Week’s prompt
A picture is one of my favorite ways to generate inspiration. Look at the picture below. Write whatever you want for as long as you can.
Photo by Anthony Delanoix.
by Rachel Toalson | This Writer Life
I write in a lot of different genres, and for a while I thought that meant I couldn’t quite become an expert in any of them. But then I started breaking down what it really means to be an expert. We can all become experts in whatever we want to, but it is not without hard work, dedication, and a dogged persistence that will carry you through the give-up days.
But first, let’s consider why we might want to become an expert in the first place.
Becoming an expert means many things:
- It means you can write a story in a shorter amount of time.
- It means that when an idea for a novel or an essay comes to you, you have the tools within you to envision the shape it will take in your brain (which is actually very deliberate practice).
- It means that you can spot problems with your story and fix them.
- It means that you will write better stories.
- It means that your audience will recognize that you write better stories.
- It means that you will sell more books and reach more people.
Expertise is a bit of a slippery term in the first place. What is expertise? Who decides when you’ve become an expert? How do you really know yourself?
Expertise is defined as the expert skill or knowledge in a particular field. So probably the most telling way you can know whether you’re an expert or not is by asking the question: Have I worked to acquire expert skill or knowledge in the field of writing?
If the answer is no, get started. If the answer is yes, don’t quit. We can always improve. So don’t ever stop trying.
In my analysis of how writers might become experts, I’ve identified five strategies. I’ll be talking about each of these five strategies in more depth at a later time, but for now, I’d encourage you to get started with each of these:
1. Read craft books vigorously.
I have a whole book shelf dedicated to writing craft books—probably more than 100 books. Some of them have been better than others, but I’ve learned something from each one of them.
Some of them have to do with writing children’s literature, some have to do with writing better descriptions, some have to do with crafting better settings, some have to do with telling better stories, some have to do with writing personal essays or narrative nonfiction or poetry.
There are so many writing craft books out there, for every genre. Pick one up for your genre and start reading. What you learn will change the way you tell stories.
[Tweet “To become an expert writer, read craft books vigorously. We can always learn and improve.”]
2. Study books in your genre.
There’s a secret among the literary realm, something that has been passed down from generation to generation, and it is the power of reading books. When you read books that are specific to your genre, you inherently absorb the techniques and structure of that genre. When you read many, many books—say 500, which is generally accepted as the number of books you should read to become an expert in your genre—writing those kinds of books becomes second nature.
Some people say they don’t like to read in their genre because they’re afraid their story will too closely mimic another one. That’s not a valid concern, it’s just an excuse. Read in your genre. Take notes about your genre, and you will find yourself writing better books faster.
[Tweet “To become an expert writer, study books in your genre. Take notes on techniques. Absorb.”]
3. Practice.
Do the work.
But in order for practice to be effective, you must practice deliberately. That means you must have measure of competency. Don’t just write books as your practice. Practice particular sections of books—like descriptions of a house or dialogue or characterization. Measure your progress. Take notes on what’s hard and what isn’t and then practice more of the hard.
[Tweet “To become an expert writer, practice what’s hard for you until it becomes easy.”]
4. Analyze yourself for weaknesses and then purposefully fix them.
This is not an easy thing to do, but it’s necessary. When I noticed that the settings in my stories could use a little work, I grabbed all the craft books on writing better settings that I could find.
Most of these craft books have exercises in them. I did the exercises. I took a notebook with me wherever I went, so I could write down a description of a place. I now have a “settings” notebook where my observations are listed. I don’t plan to ever stop this, because we only get better with purposeful practice.
[Tweet “To become an expert writer, analyze your weaknesses and purposefully fix them.”]
5. Find a teacher.
We often can’t progress past a certain point without the help of an expert.
I have big plans for This Writer Life, and one of them is to release some courses on every part of the writing and publishing process. I’d like to become a legitimate creative writing school that everybody—not just those who have it in their budget—can attend.
I want to teach people how to write more than 2 million words in one year like I did this year. I want to teach them how to write more than 5,000 words an hour. I want to teach them how to win a poetry contest.
I have plans for some rigorous writing courses in the future that will challenge and improve writers from the moment of idea conception to the moment they publish.
I say all this not so you’ll necessarily look to me as your teacher. I hope you will, of course. But a teacher can be a colleague in the writing world. A teacher can be a mentor or a friend. A teacher can be yourself, if you’re persistent and dedicated enough to do all the above, consistently, persistently and relentlessly.
[Tweet “To become an expert writer, find a good teacher and study hard.”]
Week’s prompt
Write as much as you can, in whatever form you want, on the following word:
Towels
