Sunday, September 12, 2010

My Writing Process (aka: type. type. coffee. muffin. type. facebook. type. type. twiter. type. nap.

People ask how I have a day job and still write books—especially a day job that involves kids’ books. The first part of the answer is that for the most part, I didn’t work on You Are Not Here (or I Don't Want to Be Crazy) during the work week. Maybe I’d tinker for a few minutes if something was on my mind…but that would never last too long. When I get home from work I want to see friends, watch TV, cook, sleep. The only times that I worked a lot during the week were right before deadlines. And it sucked to have to go to a café after work (to stare at yet another computer screen) for a few hours. I was beat, but I knew the extra work was worth it.

Looking back, it’s hard to imagine that You Are Not Here was written little by little on the weekends—only three to four hours at a time. So, if you’re curious what the not-so-glamorous weekend life of a writer looks like, here it is:

Wake up by ten.
Do not snooze the alarm.
Do not turn on TV.
Shower.
Do not even look at the bed.
Go get coffee and a muffin.
Come back and make breakfast.
Eat breakfast while checking email.
Do not look at the bed.
Start reviewing wherever I left off the last time I worked on the manuscript.
Frequently check email, facebook, twitter .
Work for 3-4 hours.
Nap.

For better or worse, I often read from the beginning of the manuscript or the beginning of the section I was working on…that sucked up a lot of time, but I think it helped. It naturally led me to the part I wanted to work on that day. Another way I would begin would be by typing up poems or ideas that I had written in my journal while on my 30-40 minute subway ride to work. A surprising amount of the book was born this way. I don’t know what it is about the subway that makes me so productive. Maybe it’s that I am moving? Maybe it’s all the people around me? Or maybe, despite insisting that I am NOT a morning person, my brain is perkier than I thought it could ever be at 8am. So, once that poem was typed up and tweaked, maybe I’d slot it into the manuscript. Or maybe I’d put in a different doc and save it for later. Or maybe I’d decide it was crap and not use it at all (I always save these discarded bits in a doc named "where poems go to die.")

So once my ass was firmly planted in the seat and I was staring at the laptop, I usually only lasted about three hours. And that includes lots of checking email and facebook. But eventually I would get distracted by the bed or the TV and take a break…that would turn into a nap…and then I was done for.

To prevent TV watching and napping, I’d often go to a café in my neighborhood. It was great since that way I could have access to all the coffee and food I wanted. And there’d be enough background noise to keep me sane, but not so much that I’d get distracted.

I almost always write with music on. It keeps me from getting too distracted by other things (but there is no way I could ever write with the TV on). The music I’m listening to can’t be too fast or too loud. When I was writing YANH I listened to a lot of Sigur Ros (perfect since it’s in a different language), Metric, Yelle, Tegan & Sarah, and Bon Iver. Whenever I hear any of those albums now, it’s like listening to the soundtrack to YANH.

Through the writing process, I realized how much I need solitude (something that I will try to keep in mind for my third book). When it was getting close to the due date for the first draft, I spent a few days in Western Massachusetts. While a friend went to a yoga retreat during the day, I worked on YANH at the house we were staying at. Or I would work on the grounds of the retreat. It was great. I was able to sit for many, many hours at a time and get some serious work done--without any distractions. And it definitely helped that I didn’t know the password for the wifi.

The weekend before the first draft was due, I stayed at my parents’ house. They were out of town and the house was nice and quiet (and there was a fridge stocked with food). So I sat on the back deck and worked for hours on end. It was one of the first times that I felt there just weren't enough hours in the day. I guess, for me, there’s nothing quite as motivating as a looming deadline.

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