A shorter post today–because I’m buried in family time (”helping my mother” family time, which can take up more brain power than first suspected ;o). But I didn’t want to get off track answering those frequently asked questions we’re working through. Today’s topic–”how exactly do I do the work I’ve discussed over the last few days?” A single blog post can only scratch the surface of answering a broad question like that, but we’ll give it a good start and follow up later…
So today, we’ll delve into the craziness I call my schedule and a little more of the “how,” which can be hard to put down in writing. The ”how” of my writing life depends at times on something close to magic. I’m not really sure how it all gets done. I’m amazed on a regular basis by the books I write, once they’re all revised and edited and polished into beautiful things I’m bursting with pride for you to read. I’m often asking myself, “How did you do that?” It’s a lovely magical thing, this crazy-making career I’ve chosen to pursue.
For continuity, here are the initial questions I wanted to cover. Asterisks indicate the topics you can scroll back to yesterday and Wednesday’s posts to read about.
“Windmills of Your Mind” is a favorite song–the music and lyrics are sung in a way that makes you think of things turning round and round and spiralling inside and out, over and over again.Art is at it’s lovliest happens when it can make you feel and visualize exactly what it’s trying to say to you, without having to beat you over the head with obvious symbolism and explanation.
Scheduling is a tricky thing for me.I spent the first three decades of my life scheduled out the ying yang, because I was on course to be a straight A student through highschool and college, then went to work for a top consulting company (what was then one of the “Big 6″), finally landing in Fortune 500ville, still being a tightly-scheduled, highly analytical professional in a demanding, time/deadline driven career. Suffice it to say, I became a pro at breaking an objective down into its small parts, estimating the work required to complete each part, scheduling the work into a series of critical path deadlines, then getting the work itself done on time (if not before deadline). I’d been since my teenage years, for lack of a better term, a project manager. Lots of windmills spinning in my mind all the time, all perfectly coordinated and scheduled not to collide with one another, all producing Xs by completing a series of smaller, more easily attainable Ys.
Just like the various smaller steps required to complete something as complicated as a novel, right? All I had to do when I focused on a career in novel writing was to figure out the parts that made up the whole, schedule them and whack away at each tiny piece until I had a finished product. Right???
Uh, yeah, to an extent.I’ve feel very lucky that half my brain is a well trained analytical machine. I’m one of those right-brained/left brained hybrids that is equally good at math and logic and problem solving as I am at language and creativity and connecting with people and their emotions. In short, I’m a freak who achieved the exact same score on my SATs in both math and verbal. I have not only a BS degree from GA Tech, but also a minor certificate in communications (from an engineering school?) and a minor equivalent in computer science. On personality tests, I rack up equal scores, without fail, in both extremes–I’m thinking AND feeling; I’m task-oriented AND brainstorming; I’m analytical and big picture (with half my brain in the clouds while the other half is crunching the numbers and figuring out how to get the job done).
The problem this interesting dichotomy caused when I switched from the corporate race to the world of publishing novels, is that you can’t always schedule creativity. You can’t feed your muse with a spreadsheet and palm pilot and a bunch of statistics that makes the creative creature inside you want to shrivel into a ball and hide until the evil analytical side goes away and takes its relentless pressure with it. At some point, you can’t force the “how.” You have to leave time to fill the well and sit back and let the how happen all by itself. In a sense, I had to learn to schedule, so the logical side of my brain would be satisfied and relax, thus opening the door for the creative side to be able to do it’s thing.
So, I schedule and plan my publishing efforts (the writing and promoting and travelling and speaking and so forth) and I’m pretty detailed about it. And I have a three-part writing process (if you’ve been to any of my workshops you’ve heard about it), where I plan the book, draft the book and then revise the heck out of the book. Two parts of this process are highly analytical (planning and revising). And I LOVE the revision the best, because that’s when the book starts to come together and I get the “hit” of wondering how exactly I’ve pulled another one of these things off. BUT, nothing happens, no book ever gets written, if I can’t let the schedule and the intellectual Olympics that planning and rewrite become go long enough for me to write the ugly, hole-riddled, messed up first draft.
Drafting scares me. I’m the first to admit that it’s not my strength. This is where my creative side has to wrestle control from it’s better-trained logical half and run with the story. I don’t know what’s really going to happen, no matter how carefully I plan. I have to trust the process of discovery and let the mystery and magic that is my muse lead. I have to let the windmills of my mind spin and spin and try to keep up and write what they’re showing me, believing all along that I can rewrite the whole mess into a tight, entertaining package that readers will love. And all of this needs to happen, as I’ve said in the last few posts, in less than three months–because my schedule demands that after the draft is complete, I’ve left myself enough time to rewrite and rewrite and rewrite until the book is, well, right.
So, windmills and muse and creativity and warring mental factions and magic… That’s the “how” I promised to describe for you. I’d be happy to discuss schedule in more detail. I’m working on a nonfiction book that defines my writing process and the very successful workshops I’ve given teaching others to figure out theirs. I love to discuss writing craft and the analytical side of this business where a lot needs to get done very quickly if you want to climb to the top and stay there. But, in the end, what I’ve learned is that it’s the quiet, creative gifts that need to have control. I had to learn to feed my left-brained strengths every day, not just focus on the right-brained analysis of everything that’s been my strength for so long.
I am an artist. That’s “how.” I have to remind myself of that every day. Nothing gets done, unless I let the art lead…
Tags: anna's world, writing articles
Absolutely fascinating. I have no intention of writing a book (an avid reader here) but I love hearing about how it’s done. You do seem to have a wonderful balance that most probably don’t have.
Wow, I think in the exact centre of my brain as well. It almost feels strange to read about someone else that does as well. I can see a number of points you made that could help in my creative life. Thanks.
I agree with catslady, this is a most interesting subject. I can tell
that I could never bring myself into the special world of the author.
I am not wired in the correct way needed for this career.
Pat Cochran
Thanks for an illuminating post, Anna. It helped me put some pieces together. I expect I’ll be able to face down the “writing ugly” demon a little more easily. It’s reassuring to read that you have to remind yourself that you’re an artist every day. I have my days on that score as well.
Thank for a look into you writing process. I relate to you more than I would have thought possible. I thought that left brain/right brain hybrids didn’t exist anywhere else in the real world. This has always been my struggle. I’m a systems administrator by trade, but my dream is to become a published fiction writer and maybe someday when I have some publishing under my belt, a few non-fiction books about writing. I would be very interested in attending one of your writing workshops, when time and funding permit. I’ll be checking those out next. Thanks again.
Re family time with your mom: Been there, done that, am still doing that. Lots of work. No regrets. I hope you have happy times.
Re your writing process: Thanks for sharing. You take up so much time writing for US that I hope you have time to write (and read) for YOU! Good luck in all you endeavour.
My parents are both gone, but I still try to get together with the Aunts and Uncles as well as he rest of the family as much as possible.
thanks for sharing all that you do.
Debby Creager
cleo@hbeark.com
LOL, anna. I think I can join that left brain/right brain hybrid group. I’m a scientist by day, so “analytical” is my middle name. My critique partners laugh and me because I live and die by my spread sheets.
I often forget that I need to fill the well. You are rigth that it is really important to feed the creative side and let it breathe once in a while.
And yeah, my drafts are pretty ugly-looking, too.
I sound like a copycat, but I, too, think fairly equally with both sides of my brain. It is nice that there are more of us out there than we each would have thought.
I love what you had to say about scheduling AND leaving time for the well to fill up and creativity to come out. It’s a balancing act between left and right brain.
I’m intrigued by the workshops you offer – I’d love to have more info on them.
Thank you again for sharing your process!