Processing
So it turns out that I can write a book and also do other things, but writing a book plus anything else equals total disaster for the rest of my life. The last couple of weeks, I’ve been working on the new column for Redbook (the first one will appear in the January 2010 issue), so I neglected some other matters. Like remembering to eat, or talking to people. Also writing in this here blog.
And. And I just stared into space for about fifteen minutes while I tried to think of something else to write. Listen. I know you didn’t need to know that. I realize you are not reading this as I write. I thought I’d take you along for a minute on my mind journey. If it’s going to go blank for a bit, why shouldn’t you know? Don't you want to join me in my fugue state?
When I say I spent the last couple of weeks writing my Redbook column, what I mean is that I spent one week hiding under the duvet insisting that I have nothing worthwhile to say to anyone, and another week hiding under the duvet, emerging to tap out a few words, running around screaming that I’m a worthless hack, and then diving headfirst back under the duvet. You think I’m exaggerating, don’t you? I can see it on your face. All right, maybe I’m exaggerating a little, shut up.
I don’t know if writing is this way for anyone else, but when I’m faced with a deadline, the few days beforehand are torture. (And yet I could never get anything done without a deadline. And meeting a deadline is an unparalleled relief.) The only way I can get anything done is the following: I must 1) wear a hooded robe or sweater, hood up, and 2) put a blanket over my head, so as to create another hood over the hood, and if that’s not enough I 3) close my eyes while writing. Is that not utterly pathetic? I have to squirrel myself away in a cocoon of emotional comfort so that I can (sometimes tearfully) bang out the last few words I require to get the job done. But for whatever reason, this works for me.
I mentioned some of my bizarre habits to my Redbook editor (on whom I may have a burgeoning girl-crush—but I won’t admit to anything, except secretly when I whisper it in my pillow), and she seemed unfazed. She said brightly, “Well, that’s your process!”
So I am not insane. I have figured out my process. And you? Do you have one? Come on, admit it.










November 10, 2009
Reader Comments (94)
My "process" seems to involve endlessly nitpicking about not just word choice, but also the amount of white space.
Like you, I find that every new task I add means something goes undone. Like laundry. Dishes. Grocery shopping. Fortunately not bathing, since I have a day job and must keep up appearances. Thank goodness for small favors, eh?
http://gizmodo.com/380625/body+laptop-wooly-jumper-offers-privacy-warmth-and-a-big-bucket-of-ridicule
1. Dread and procrastinate setting up the interview with the subject matter expert.2. Get very nervous before the interview.3. Conduct a perfectly good interview.4. Spent at least a week worrying about how long it will take me to write it and self-flagellating that I can't just sit down and write it like "real writers."5. Spend a day transcribing and reviewing my interview notes... in other words, stalling.6. Fret over my lede.7. Spend a day writing the first draft.8. Second-guess everything.9. Go sit outside or in an empty office with the door closed -- apparently I cannot write at my desk.10. Polish/rework the story until it's nice and clean.11. Send to editor and collapse into heap, wondering why other writers are not also in heaps.
I always like how my stories come out, but "my process" is far too showy and takes too long!
It's detached from a coat. I use it in emergencies. (Like finals in college.) None of my current housemates know its true use or value.
You've missed me. Admit it.
Knowingly,Joe
I always think to myself that I am as to writing as Madonna is to singing. I don't have a ton of talent, but I have a shitload of ambition. For those like me (and not like you), ambition can make up for a lack of talent. Half the battle is finding an audience for your words, at which you, my friend, have already succeeded. Yay for Alice! Go, Alice!
Good luck! And I like your writing, so good job, process.
And that's why my blog sucks so bad.
If I want to write something that's even the slightest bit decent, then I just freak out. I have to be away from everyone and away from my life--I have to go to another place. That's my process. I can avoid the blanket thing if I can pretend I am not me and escape everyone who knows me. And turn off my phone and have no internet.
Then I get into a crazy fugue state but I can sort of write in that state.
Writing has to be painful. I don't think there is a painless way to write, unless you just blather and produce utter garbage (see my blog for examples).
I once ate a plate of clams and a slice of pizza while trying to get out a paragraph. Your process is so much healthier.
Photo deadlines? I listen to Billy Joel. It's the weirdest fricking thing.
THANK YOU for posting about your writing struggles, er, I mean process. This was super timely for me!
I'm studying to be an English teacher, and I'm working on a project right now about real writers' writing processes. My theory is basically that it's important for students to know how "real" writers write.
(I think students have a tendency to believe that one is either a "natural" writer or isn't, and of course they think that they aren't. Or they think there's something they "just don't get." So I think it's important to introduce students to different "real" writers processes (some write at night, some during the day; some wait for inspiration, some sit down and just start typing). Even "real" writers aren't necessarily even good writers on the first draft!)
So thank you again, all, and best of luck with your procrastinating!
It really really have fun while reading your blog,, blog??? or a kind of confession well I like both , I know you can overcome your feeling and I thank you for sharing kind of nice blog and I'm inspire.. good luck!! and GOD BLESS>