On not writing much
or, why one-size-fits-all writing advice doesn't always work
Welcome to my newsletter. I hope you’re well and adjusting to the changing season! On Instagram I’ve seen lots of arty pictures of beautiful micro-toadstools, looking for all the world like they’re from the pages of a fairy story. Meanwhile, in my garden, clearly we don’t do dainty fungi, as these whoppers have appeared from nowhere:
A chat with some writer friends has got me thinking - again - about how so much advice about writing boils down to a few choice cliches. Write every day. Write X words per day/week. Write even if you don’t feel like it. Write at the same time every day. The muse shows up when you do. And all the rest. The problem is, for some of us (me), our brains don’t necessarily respond to routine in that way, and the well-meaning advice leaves us feeling guilty and inadequate.
So I’ve decided to embrace the uncertainty and try to avoid the tyranny of the “should”. One thing I realised when I was keeping my garden diary in 2020, even before I realised that what I was writing wasn’t a diary but a book, was that if I went out and wrote every single day, my writing soon became very stale. Conversely, I also realised that for that book, if I left things longer than a few days it was harder to get back into it. I ended up with a very rough (and non-binding) rule of “no more than 2 or 3 days in a row writing, no more than 2 or 3 days in a row not writing”, which worked well, for that book at any rate.
I’m sure I have another full-length book in me, but right now I have no idea what it would be about, and so it feels pretty pointless trying to write it. I am exploring, and really enjoying, the shorter essay form, and my efforts this year have given me another realisation about myself and my writing, namely, that I write best when I am nerdily excited about the subject. When I’m not, I might as well be pulling teeth.
This year, then, I’ve written the grand total of 2 essays, totalling a bit short of 9K words, plus a couple of short poems for my poetry book. Now most of the writers I know would probably be devastated with themselves if that was all they’d written in the best part of a year, but I’m really happy with what I’ve written, and know that it is good. I have poured myself into that writing, and exhausted myself in the process, and loved every minute. However, when I’ve tried writing something I’m not nerdily excited about, I’ve been bored and discouraged, and easily convince myself that I’m a terrible writer. I think my writing mantra is basically “you can’t polish a turd”, which is what it feels like when I’m writing about something that doesn’t grab me. I’d honestly rather not write anything than go through the motions in pursuit of an arbitrary word count.
Now that I’ve realised this about myself I feel much better about my relatively small output, and I know that going for quality not quantity is the right thing for me (note: lots of people I know can do quality *and* quantity, I’m absolutely not dissing people who write several books a year, but alas I am not one of them). Having said that, I am currently at the point where I have finished an essay, but am yet to find that next spark of an idea that gets my brain firing all over the place with excitement, and I feel a little bit bereft. I *want* to be writing, I *want* to be excited about an idea, but I’m not there right now. I know though from past experience that the idea will come from left field, when I don’t expect it, and once it does I’ll be obsessed with it until I’ve researched and spider-diagrammed and (eventually) committed it to paper. I just wish it would hurry up!
In the meantime, I have enjoyed making more handpainted bookmarks (see previous post) which I will be selling when I do makers’ markets and craft fairs, so at least I am still enjoying being creative. I also had a week away recently seeing family and friends, and also managed a visit to the lovely Hauxley nature reserve in Northumberland, where we gave them their first redshank sighting of the season (I’m not competitive about these things, really, but it did give me a buzz telling the staff we’d seen redshank and the response being “oh good, they’re back!”).
Finally, if you’re local(ish) to me (ie anywhere near Stirling), then check out the annual Christmas market at the Albert Halls, Stirling on the weekend of 30th November and 1st December 2024. On Saturday 30th, I will be sharing a stall there with my writer friend Angela (whose newsletter is As the Crow Flies and whose books are Scottish detective mysteries), and we’d love to see you there and hopefully provide you with some excellent Christmas gifts! (the market is also raising money for the wonderful Strathcarron Hospice, so as well as Christmas shopping you’d also be supporting a terrific local cause).
Thank you for reading. Let me know your thoughts on writing advice, garden fungi, or anything else that this post prompts in the marvel that is your brain! I’d love to hear from you!
Jackie