I had been writing for a few years when I crossed paths with an old hand at the published author game, and she warned me: Don’t be too quick to quit that day job. You might find your productivity actually drops when you do.
I wanted to dismiss this as the sour grapes of somebody who lacked the self-discipline to stay focused on the writing, except nope. This warning reflected how a day job toggles the conscious writing on/off switch. From 5 am to 7 am, you write, then you head off to the day job, where all you can do for your work in progress is think about the writing, or–more helpfully–banish the writing from your awareness. The day job also provides a thousand little pings of inspiration, such as a peculiar word picked up in a meeting, or forced immobility in traffic that reminds you how easy it would be to send tempers flaring if a coach horse turned up lame.
My writing productivity didn’t drop when I closed the law office, but it didn’t go up either. About that time, I ran across another old hand at the writing game, and their lament was, “I have picked all the low hanging fruit. I wrote all the clever openings and brilliant twists I’d stored up ten books ago. My inner critic has become more and more discerning, and with every book, I use up fascinating factoids or little character quirks that I can’t use again. This is getting harder, not easier!”
And I had to agree. Yes, I am a better writer 100 books on, but I’m also a fussier writer, and a writer who is less likely to break the rules out of sheer exuberant ignorance. I’ve unconsciously absorbed reader preferences and reactions, I’ve attended a zillion “Top Ten Mistakes” workshops, and my imagination is constrained by what I’ve learned about “good writing.”
That said, a hard writing day is better than almost any lawyering day, by my lights. Even so, I think about how to keep the joy percolating, how to entertain readers with the best yet, how to twist the twists and the tropes.
I was pondering that quandary when I received my first “Images from Maine” newsletter from photographer Peter Ralston. I can’t find a web link for that particular newsletter (#235), but he recounts popping out of bed early one recent summer morning, putting his canoe into the creek, and just paddling out into the day. Lovely phlox growing along the bank, friends ambling around the dog park, a new acquaintance made on the green… Peter makes the point that when he is open–a term he does not define–he doesn’t have to seek inspiration. The images, stories, and inspirations come to him.
I have a hunch that his version of open has nothing to do with knowing all the writer rules, meeting all the deadlines, and racking up the pre-orders. Openness might instead involve NOT writing, even when I can, because it’s a beautiful morning to walk down to the highway. Or maybe openness is going to the farmer’s market, just for a look see. Or sitting on the porch with the cats for that first cuppa tea, even though it’s a writing day and I’m burning daylight.
I’m fuzzy on
of the specifics, but the concept of openness landed in my ever-questing imagination like a klieg light sweeping through a moonless night. Oh, yeah. THAT feeling. That curious, trusting, exploring feeling that I haven’t felt in a long, long time. Maybe I need more of that, if the next hundred books are to be as joyful and interesting to write as the last hundred have been. Yeah. Maybe that.
So while the blog is on hiatus for the month of July, I will be enjoying more unstructured time, more rambles just because, and fewer games of cribbage and solitaire which are so comfy, and so, so deadly dead end.
Does the openness concept resonate with you? Is it something you’ve seen in others, or enjoyed from time to time?
Good evening Grace
Have a happy July. I don’t often respond but I always read and enjoy your blog. Thank you
Mary
I think I’ve read newsletters from other authors that thinking about and/or doing things other than writing does help “refill the well.” I do know that I’ve figured something out when I wasn’t figuring something out (that was my trying-to-be-clever way of saying concentrating on different things helps other things come to the fore in my brain).
I hope you enjoy your time away though I will miss reading your essays every week. Even when I don’t comment, they make an impression on me.
I think it’s good to take a breather.
I walk most mornings and it’s good for me to exercise but it’s an opportunity to clear my mind, to relax and be open.
Open to possibilities, change and a different way to approach daily tasks.
Take time for yourself and you will benefit!
I will miss the blog and your words!
Take care & see you in August!
Enjoy your hiatus, Grace!!! You deserve it
See you in August
Grace –
Have a very relaxing, enjoyable July! Hope it doesn’t get too hot to take outdoor breaks!
See you in August!
Carol H.
I see that “openness” as a certain amount child like. Curious, learning, experiencing. You mention joy. I hope you find lots of it.
To me, openness means not being scheduled. When I worked I planned my life around due dates. Now retired, I don’t try to make plans. I don’t join groups that would require commitment to attending meetings without fail. I don’t want my life regulated any more than it has to be. My life is not anarchy or chaos. It is rolling with the punches and going with the flow. So nice.
Openness sounds like being aware of Now, of stopping and smelling the roses; not thinking or worrying about everything else in life. I’m not quite at that level yet while I walk (my walk is a brisk, get the heart rate up walk), but I do let my mind wander while I walk; no music, no audio books.
Open is out in the car running errands & realizing the building storm clouds ahead of me resemble a slow motion wave crashing on shore. Or wandering into my local cosmetics store at the local outlet mall to play with makeup testers & realizing I’ve created a rather artistic effect with swatches on my hand & arm that would translate beautifully into a color scheme for redecorating my living room. Plus walking out with a new lipstick that cheers me every time I see my reflection. Or yielding to impulse & simply wandering the aisles of a garden center I haven’t been in before only to walk out with an unknown plant that simply called to me with a leaf color & texture that soothes my soul. Or experimenting with a new flavor of spiced coffee & finding inspiration in a mug. Who knew chai spices went so well with coffee beans?!
In short, it’s remaining “open” to new ideas, discoveries, experiences, people, or moments of universal harmony or connection around me while everyone else is trudging along in their rut, head down or eyes fixed on the road, apparently oblivious to the wonders around us if we simply look, sniff, taste, or explore a little outside the boundaries of “must” & “should” to be rewarded by that flash of serendipity just waiting to be noticed.
Dear Grace, I know what openness is because I have experienced it by having flashes of insight that allow me to fully experience a moment and the joy in doing just that. When I attempt to recall the memories they come flooding back. The most recent was having both of my twin grandsons in my lap while I read to them and sang to them. Since they live on the other side of the country, this was the was the first time in their one year I even got to try for such sustained engagement. It also allowed my granddaughter to have the undivided attention of both of her parents for the duration of her birthday and beyond. So many moments I could share but I don’t know how I get there. I would love to increase the frequency!!
hello
I needed this today, when my ideas all feel withered. In this state of mind, I still get ideas, but they just don’t ever feel worth pursuing. But if there’s something consistent about writing people (for me, at least), it’s that every time I think I have it all figured out, human nature goes and surprises me. So, for me…I think openness requires some amount of people watching. My little goobs will be surrounded by one-note cardboard cutouts if I don’t reference life around me.
Following up on Beth’s comments mentioning “musts and shoulds,” underlying the concept of openness is the need to suspend our judgmental thoughts: about ourselves and about what we are experiencing in the moment. It can be a challenge to listen and watch without labeling or reaching some conclusion. A mentor and friend encouraged me to describe rather than evaluate: by slowing down and mentally or verbally describing the details of our surroundings (or situation), we resist the tendency to slam the door on what could be a pivotal experience.
Enjoy your open/unstructured time in July! I think having the time to be open is a vanishing characteristic in our busy, always on world. I, like many others, have terrible work/life balance issues (I check my work email in the evenings, weekends, holidays) and my brain is always going going going. I really like the idea of being open to just relaxing and seeing what comes my way. Perhaps, someday (sooner rather than later I hope), I will be able to take advantage of that.