Writing vs Living

Short post today as I’m currently in Crete. (I’ve learned my lesson in regard to attempting to maintain my usual writing routine while on holidays).

This allows quite a nice segue into my topic for today: The tension between how much time you spend writing, and how much time you devote to living (so you’ve actually got something to write about)

People don’t want to read stories about stodgy literary types whose forearms never leave the hard surface of their writing desk and socks never leave the carpet of their office. But equally, if you’re not devoting a certain amount of time to this very practice, then the exciting life you’re living is never going to make it onto the page in a manner that is engaging to read.

In previous posts I’ve touched in my writing routine, which essentially consists of writing as much as I can up until noon and then leaving the rest of my day for other things. (a routine that is shortly going to change when I’m forced to get a job)

This spares me creative burnout and allows my subconscious the space to solve any story problems I’ve come across during that morning’s session—a much better option than attempting to white knuckle my way towards a solution.

A version of this approach that I haven’t explored yet (mainly out of fear that it will derail me) is taking entire days off. In the last three years, I could count on one hand the number of times I’ve allowed two days to pass without sitting down to at least think about a story problem.

Its natural to view this as a “good” habit. But what if it’s not? What if I’m robbing myself of the opportunity to clear up some mental space?

So that’s what I’m going to do. I finished my latest draft of the novel this week—the next step is line editing—so I’m going to run an experiment of not writing for a few days to see how it fits.

It could be terrible, but we will see.