I totally forgot to write my blog post yesterday. This isn’t a bit. I was distracted by life and day job and eight million other things and totally freaking spaced. So definitely listen to what I’m about to tell you.
Writing has never been an act of perfection for me. I write messy first drafts and carve moments out of my life wherever I can find them to get words on the page. I wrote most of my first (trunked) novel and the vast majority of The Diminished in a classroom in Korea while simultaneously admonishing small children to finish their assignments.
That said, I do LIKE to have a quiet room without interruptions and endless hours to devote to stories, but that’s not the reality of my life right now. As I barrel towards my debut (just 3 months!!), more and more time becomes devoted to the performance of existing in the world as a person with a book coming out. It’s been harder and harder to turn off social media and focus on the book I’m writing.
To that end, I’ve installed a program called Freedom on both my computer and my phone so that I can really step away from the notifications and immerse myself in my work. Our house is on the market right now, and it was raining yesterday, so I spent an hour parked in my neighborhood with both dogs in the car. I wrote almost a thousand words in that hour. It’s amazing what stepping away from the norm will do.
So. What’s my idea writing situation? Alone in a clean house with dogs freshly walked and a cup of tea that never gets cold.
And what’s reality? A house that needs to be cleaned, dogs that want my attention, and endless guilt for devoting so much of my free time to writing when I could be interacting with my friends or my husband. I’ve written four and a half books in that reality, and I know you can do the same with whatever distractions are vying for your attention too.
“That said, I do LIKE to have a quiet room without interruptions and endless hours to devote to stories, but that’s not the reality of my life right now.”
It would be interesting to know how my (or anybody’s) favorite books were written. Do the quiet, comfortable room, and the silence, and the endless hours make the writing better for those who have that? I doubt it.