The Endless Commitment of Writing: A Deep Dive into the Craft
Written on
Chapter 1: The Myth of Minimal Effort in Writing
In a recent discussion, Kristina God inquired about my daily writing hours. My joking reply was, "Every waking minute." Reflecting on it, I realized that was a bit too glib. In this age of "quick riches through writing" promises, the actual hours dedicated to the craft deserve serious examination.
Unlike many professions, writing doesn't lend itself to straightforward metrics of time commitment. Therefore, trying to quantify hours worked can often lead to misunderstandings. A more useful approach could be tracking the actual time spent typing. For me, this typically spans from 6 AM to noon, with breaks for coffee or similar tasks. While we often assume breaks in our weekly work assessments, I suspect my actual writing time might be closer to 40 hours weekly.
However, confusion arises when considering the essential yet intangible hours spent nurturing inspiration. I never assert that I "wrote something in an hour." Many articles lure readers in with claims of making substantial income in just one hour of effort. Thus, I think it's more truthful to err on the side of overestimating one's dedication.
Consider a surgeon, who may complete an operation in an hour; that hour, however, is backed by countless years of rigorous training. In my view, every article I produce is the result of everything I've absorbed throughout my life. So, when someone asks, "How long did it take to write that?" perhaps the most truthful answer is your age at the article's completion.
While that may be accurate, it's not particularly helpful, so let's explore further.
Section 1.1: Assessing Daily Writing Hours
I’ve often claimed I work “12 hours a day.” At first, that seemed excessive, but when I calculate it out, it leads to a 60-hour work week. It's uncommon for me to skip writing daily. Yet, I'm notoriously poor at estimating time spent; I might think I've written for half an hour only to find that three hours have elapsed.
A lot can be accomplished in a short window. For instance, I have a routine where I pick up my youngest daughter at 2:30 and my eldest at 3:40. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, I use the interval between pickups to write a fantasy novel that I later share with my children in the evening. The results of this routine over three and a half years are substantial:
Image by Walter Rhein
However, this isn’t entirely “writing” in the traditional sense; it’s more freewriting. That output comes from merely placing my fingers on a keyboard for three hours each week. It doesn't equate to a finished manuscript; it requires hours of revision and refinement.
Subsection 1.1.1: The Challenges of Distraction
My family often endures my distractions. Dinner time can see me mentally absent, struggling with unresolved ideas that keep surfacing. These thoughts can consume me until I find a resolution.
There are times when my family has noticed my distraction mid-meal. My eldest daughter often jokes, "Dad's glitching again," as I mentally race through my thoughts, oblivious to everything else.
How do we quantify those moments in our work hours?
Section 1.2: The Role of Inspiration in Writing
Sometimes, when I'm stuck, the best remedy is to step away from the computer and take my dog for a walk. That change of scenery can stimulate my brain. Initially, I may feel grumpy and blocked, but as my dog happily explores, I often find clarity returning.
Typically, by the end of the walk, not only have I solved my initial problem, but I've also brainstormed ideas for additional articles. So, does that count as work?
Chapter 2: The Nuances of Productivity
Writing can be exhausting. After an hour or two at my desk, I often feel mentally drained. This fatigue usually kicks in around noon, but I can push through until 1 PM. If I indulge in some junk food for lunch, I might squeeze in another article before school pick-up.
On healthier days, I attempt a quick 10-minute nap around 2:15 PM. If I can reach REM sleep, I’m recharged and ready to tackle my writing projects later. Unfortunately, our culture often overlooks the productivity boost that a brief midday nap can provide. Thankfully, I work from home, allowing me to embrace this practice without needing anyone else's approval.
Does that nap count as work time? I believe it does, as it enhances my output.
Former CIA Officer Will Teach You How to Spot a Lie l Digiday - YouTube
Reading out loud also qualifies as work. Each evening, I share chapters from my fairy book with my kids, which involves gauging their reactions and making mental notes for revisions. Their feedback is invaluable.
For instance, when I planned to introduce a love interest, my daughters voiced strong objections, prompting me to rethink that plotline entirely. Their reactions guide my creative process and help me avoid missteps that could lead to a lackluster story.
Why We Quit Working for Joyce Meyer, and Left the Word of Faith Movement - YouTube
Chapter 3: Living in Words
On days I don’t have new chapters, we dive into other novels. Every interaction with words is an opportunity for evaluation and creativity. Whether watching TV, listening to music, or engaging in conversation, I’m always analyzing language and ideas.
The reality is, every time words are involved—spoken or thought—I'm working. My mind is a whirlwind of ideas, constantly reordering and reconsidering them.
I work every waking moment of the day, and even in my sleep.
As I drift off, the weight of words often occupies my thoughts. Upon waking, I quickly jot down any inspiration sparked by my dreams. Thus, my earlier statement about working "every waking moment" feels understated. Being a writer is a relentless commitment—24/7, from birth until death.
After 50 years in this craft, I see signs of growth, and that keeps me going.