Privacy and Alone Time: Why Creativity and Good Writing Depend on These

Summer is a great time to discover new books.  A colleague recommended Quiet:  The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking, by Susan Cain, for its unique views on creativity and the need for alone time to nurture that creativity. 

Alone time is a tricky subject.  It hints of antisocial behavior, even selfishness, but I find it's absolutely essential for my sanity, balance, and creative spark. 

Cain's book gave me enough scientific backing to accept the idea that I need to be alone a good portion of each day to hear myself and my story.  I'm not alone in that need, either!

One study revealed that practicing in solitude caused a dramatic jump in skill.  Research psychologist Anders Ericsson evaluated how chess players and violinists--two very disparate creative groups--took leaps ahead in their abilities when they had enough "serious study alone." 

Three groups of violinists keep detailed diaries of the time they spent practicing and how they practiced. All three groups practiced the same amount of time.

The group that gained the most skills practiced in solitude.    Ericsson found the benefit of "serious study alone" held true for chess players, athletes in team sports, and other expert performers.

Writing Demands "Utmost of Self-Revelation and Surrender"
Franz Kafka wrote about this to his fiance.  They were deeply in love, and the woman wanted to sit near Kafka as he worked. 

"Writing means revealing oneself to excess," Kafka replied, "that utmost of self-revelation and surrender, in which a human being, when involved with others, would feel he was losing himself, and from which, therefore, he will always shrink as long as he is in his right mind . . . . That is why one can never be alone enough when one writes, why there can never be enough silence around one when one writes." 

In teaching thousands of writers how to craft their books, I've discovered that the need for privacy and alone time arrives in different degrees for each of us.  Depending on where you are in the book journey, your need might be extreme or or it might be small.

To recognize the need, honor it--and not fear it--will make a big difference in your writing.

 

 Alone Time--What It Gives the Writer
We are trained to interact and react with the world around us.  Many of us are socialized to pay less attention to our own thoughts and needs than to those of the people we relate to. 

As we grow, we master the balance with this rhythm--or not.  Ideally, we find a way to put enough attention within as well as without. 

But when we take on a large creative project, like a book, the balance must shift.  Books demand more time inside, to think, muse, dream, and design our stories.

If we operate with our normal social world ratio, our inner lives will come up lacking, and the book will starve from lack of nourishment. 

Alone time--truly alone--gives the writer back the necessary balance.

Summer is an ideal time to retreat, for some writers--hence the proliferation of writing conferences during the warm months.  Retreats are designed to reawaken our realizations of this balance.  Daily life can easily overwhelm the creative senses.  Retreating away from daily life demands  lets our natural, internal pulse come forward again. 

We can retreat at home too, by negotiating alone time.  If we spend time alone regularly, it allows us to practice the balance we need.  Soon the pulse of it becomes like a heartbeat, impossible to live without.

Personally, I need alone time 4-5 days a week, at least 1-2 hours of it at a stretch.  It takes me that long to hear myself again.  My family and I have to negotiate this; it doesn't happen naturally.  We get out our calendars and schedule alone time along with all the other necessities. 

It works best if there is absolutely no one around to attend to, to even minutely distract from the interior world we need to listen for.  If we can arrange this kind of alone time, it really refreshes the creative spirit.

Alone Time in Public
In Quiet, Susan Cain also talks about being alone in public.  Some writers need the "mere presence of other people" to help the mind "make associative leaps." 

It seems paradoxical, but remember that each creative person is different. 

Being alone in public is not about interaction, like talking on the cell phone, texting, chatting with the person at the table next to yours.  It's about the presence of people, a crowded cafe or library, but being with them in the quiet of your own thoughts. 

Other humans are intent in their own lives and you can become busy in yours, with the hum of their noise in the background to keep you company.

When Susan Cain began writing her book, she set up the perfect home office with desk, good light, and plenty of quiet time.  But when she tried to write, nothing happened.  She couldn't even launch page one. 

So she took her laptop to a neighborhood cafe and wrote most of the book there.

She says,"The coffee shop was full of people bent over their own computers, and if the expressions of rapt concentrations on their faces were any indication, I wasn't the only one getting a lot of work done . . . . the cafe . . . . was social, yet its casual, come-as-you-please nature left me free from unwelcome entanglements and able to deliberately practice my writing.  I could toggle back and forth between observer and social actor as much as I wanted.  I could also control my environment. . . . . I had the option to leave whenever I wanted peace and quiet to edit what I'd written that day."

Anonymity is the key.  If I have to respond, to be seen and have to acknowledge whomever is seeing me, my click-in to the Muse is compromised.  Being alone in public means being as invisible as every other person in the room.

I was relieved to read Cain's explanation.  Some of my best writing and revising happens in cafes when I have had enough quiet time at home.  I have my favorite Starbucks, my Vente cup of Passion iced tea, and my solitude with the dozens of others also sitting in public, alone.

This Week's Writing Exercise
1.  Read an excerpt from Quiet (click here) or check out Susan Cain's TED Talk on the Power of Introverts, which Bill Gates named one of his all-time favorites.   

2.  Spend some time this week keeping an "alone time" diary.  Assess how much alone time you get, if it's enough or too much or nowhere near what you need to write your book.

3.  Renegotiate your alone time, based on what you learn.  If you are alone too much, take yourself to a public place and practice being alone with others.  See what difference it makes in your writing and your life.    

Why Do Creative People Fear Routine? Getting Over the Internal Obstacles to Actually Finishing Your Book

My ideal writing day is open-ended.  I have nothing I even have to get dressed for.  I can be alone, noodling around my writing space, enjoying silence and letting my characters and topic talk to me without fear of interruptions.  I get to design my own play space and time. 

In this ideal world, the creative flow is strong.  It's unimpeded by plans, structure, or routine.  I write often and well, I never encounter doubts or blocks, and I produce amazing amounts of work and feel completely refreshed by the process.

A writing life without routine--that's what most of us dream of.  Because it's really the routine--the obligations and the demands--that gets in our way, isn't it.  If we were free to just write, we would.

Right?  Not really.  A great fantasy, but rarely true.

Most writers produce more, and better, writing, when they plan time for it.  Maybe it's because the Muse decides to visit more often when we show up regularly, rather than when we drop in when it suits us.

But don't get me wrong.  The lazy-meandering dreamtime is essential to creativity too.  We all need it to connect with what Dorothy Alison calls "necessary boredom."   It's balancing the two types of activity, the dreamtime and the routine time, that makes a successful working writer.

When I interview colleagues who publish books and enjoy some measure of success in their writing life, I find that most of them have a writing routine.  Within it, they plan their dreamtime as well as their production time.  One writer calls it process and product--and she makes room for both kinds of tasks.  During the dreamtime, when they let their creative selves explore new ideas, they are also alert and dedicated to taking notes:  one carries a digital recorder to record writing ideas while driving or doing errands.  Another packs a pocketful of index cards to make notes whenever new directions come through.  A third preserves an hour each morning after waking to jot down suggestions from the dream state.  

Don't believe it?  Read the biographies of famous working writers and learn about their creative routines.  Maybe 60-70 percent use routine to create better and more writing.  And publish their books.

So why do so many of us fear routine?  Why do we believe the myth that routine will sap the creative spirit rather than nurture it?


The Myths of the Creative Life
We grew up believing certain things about the creative life.  It's free and easy.  Someone else supports you while you do it.  You need to become a "fringe rider" to really be creative all the time.

A lot of hooey, as Julia Cameron, author of The Artist's Way, once said.  Good writers don't have to be substance, relationship, or money abusers; and the creative life doesn't have to make you crazy--or at least unstable. 

 I didn't used to believe this.  In college, I read about Heminway and Plath and Fitzgerald and so many well-loved writers who were losers at life.  I became convinced that it was dangerous to dedicate your life to an art form.  That the sheer process of creating would turn me into someone I was not.

I was following an arts curriculum and destined for a life in the arts, but I decided it was way too risky.  So I switched out of the arts and began studying languages.  A ten-year detour followed, as my language career never satisfied that longing inside to live full-time in the creative world.  Eventually, I ended up back in the painting studio and at the writing desk.

Detouring taught me a lot.  It also made me quite unhappy, because when we're called to an art form, there's no ignoring it.  Our hearts will always try to follow that call.

As I grew up and got to meet more professional writers, I found many who viewed writing as creative work, rather than full-time play.  They had grown past the magical thinking:  that good writing can only be born from the edgy territory of despair or drugs or drinking.  These writers wrote no matter what. 

Now I am one.  You can be too, if you let yourself drop the myths that may be unconsciously strangling you.

Developing Your Best Writing Routine
In my classes, I coach writers on finding and developing their best writing routine.  First step:  realize that another writing's routine is probably not yours.  You have to find what supports your writing the best. 

Second step:  Be prepared for that routine to change as you develop good creative habits. 

This week, you might ask yourself questions like:

1.  What time of day do I write most easily?
2.  Where do I love to write?  Where do I really hate to write?
3.  How do I like to write--on a laptop, with fountain pen and paper, on legal pads, talking into a digital recorder?

4.  What inspires me most to write?

When I answered these questions, and explored writing at different times of day or in different locations, I came up with this list.

1.  I like to write for an hour before I see or speak to anyone in my family. 
2.  I like to shut the door and feel completely alone.  (My writing office is at the back of our house, and I can secret myself away there and not be disturbed.  When I manage to do this, my family is very respectful.)
3.  I don't write well if I have an appointment to get ready for or a phone call to make within the next few hours.   
4.  I write best on my laptop.  Except for freewriting, which is aided by a pen and my writing notebook.
5.  I like to read a little before I write.
6.  I like to leave unfinished sentences to start with the next writing session.
7.  If I can write every day, I gain more momentum.
8.  I like to do writing exercises from writing books, to jumpstart myself when I'm feeling uninspired.  A current favorite is Wired for Story by Lisa Cron.

Our best writing routine may take a while to figure out--and negotiate with others and with ourselves.  But first, you may need to acknowledge that it's never just circumstances that stop us from writing; it's also our beliefs about the ideal writing life.
Why We Fear Routine
An online reader emailed with a question about the fear of routine.  "I always stay busy, rarely waste time, and accomplish a lot," she says.  "I often wonder if routine would help me accomplish more, since I wouldn't be making so many decisions.  But I have a heck of a time sticking to one, and I wonder if it's really worth trying.  Is it resistance, rebellion, fear, or just not my style?"

If you're producing and happy with your work, why change?  Maybe you have found your kind of routine in the free flow of your writing day.  There's a thousand ways to find the creative spark, and it's important not to compare yourself to others.   I vary my writing days a lot--see below--to keep interested. 

But if you are mostly dreaming about writing, you probably need to try some structured writing time.  Dreamtime goes hand in hand with routine; one doesn't work well without the other.  I watch the quality of my work, see if it's growing and satisfying me, and as long as it is, I don't shift my writing habit.  When it starts to get boring or I'm not getting my book written, then it's time to craft a routine to help my Muse show up more regularly.

Here's how I vary my routine.  Maybe it'll inspire you to re-create yours:

I build in three or four different options for writing time each week:  one day I write first thing in the morning, another as the sun is setting.  I also vary place:  I'll take off for an afternoon at the library or go hang out at a cafe.  I write alone and with others. 

I find that variety keeps me a bit on a creative edge.

Routine doesn't mean imprisoning yourself.

I've learned this especially during the last year in weekly meetings with a writing partner.  We meet  for about two hours.  After catching up briefly on our lives, we set a timer and write.  I've noticed ideas start flowing in about an hour before these weekly meetings. 

I know it's the gift of routine.
Fear of Success
An almost invisible fear can lurk under the fear of routine:  the fear of what will happen if we actually succeed. 

Sometimes we sabotage ourselves as we get close to realizing a writing dream.  "I have had several projects that were close to success," a reader wrote, "and I have a family and friends who are sounding a bit envious.  How does jealousy in others affect the writer?"

If we sense that we're standing too tall above the crowd, some of us will automatically stop our projects.  We'll create all sorts of "good" reasons for not writing.  My book, Your Book Starts Here, has a whole chapter on this aspect of the Inner Critic.  It's being a dedicated gatekeeper to prevent you from standing out. 

I love Marianne Williamson's quote about this:

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure."  Too many of us deliberately avoid success because of this.  Here's a simple writing exercise to explore it for yourself.  See if you are curbing your creativity to stay small and not make others envious.  You may just discover something that changes your life--not just your writing. 

Your Weekly Writing Exercise
1.  In your writing journal, explore what success means to you.  What does it look like?  How high can you fly?  How has it manifested in your past, with people you loved or hated, and what beliefs have been neatly installed inside you?

2.  Then write the answer to this question 2o times:  "I can't succeed with my writing because ____________________________."

3.  Check out your body--how you are feeling in your own skin--as you write these.  Any clues come forward?     

Placing Setting Details for Best Effect-- The Danger of Frontloading Your Story with Description

One of my online students is writing a very good mystery.  He has plotted it well, and he's working on developing the characters.

Last semester in the twelve weeks of my online class, I focused him on pacing.  What is the best pacing for a mystery?  What elements keep the momentum going, the tension high?  What drops tension, and even distracts the reader?

I asked him to study different aspects of pacing, such as dialogue, character description, and setting.  How is each used for best emotional effect?

This writer has improved tremendously in the months we've worked together.  But he still can "frontload" his chapters with too many setting details.  I wanted him to see how they slowed the pace of his story, and begin to choose the specific details that wouldn't derail his readers. 

So, as a special assignment, I asked him to read a couple of his favorite published mystery writers.  How much setting do they use?  Where is it placed in the chapter?  In what ways does setting enhance a story? 

He came back to me, confused.  The amount of setting details and where they were placed varied widely from author to author.  Some used a lot of setting before an event or action.  Some used very little.  Some used a different amount at different times in the story.

There seemed to be no real guideline to follow.

He's already learned a lot, just by noticing this.  So now he's ready for the second step in the "setting study" I've given him.  It's time to answer the question that's most important:  What purpose does setting play in story?

The Purpose of Setting in Story
Each author uses setting in his or her story for one purpose:  to enhance our emotional involvement with the plot and characters.  Setting has no other reason for being in story.  It is fun to write--sure.  It's poetic and interesting. 

But the only cardinal rule about using setting is this:  Everything--everything--that is brought to a story must have relevance to the character's journey.  And that includes setting.

Setting is broad--in my classes, we call it "container," because it acts like a container to hold the story, in the best situations.  It grounds the action, gives us something to see the character interact with.  An old Southern town is a perfect foil for the rebel kid who now lives in NYC and is returning.  Imagine how different the story would be if it took place in Northern California.  Skilled choice of setting is the mark of an accomplished writer. 

Some writers believe setting just needs to harmonize with a character, be familiar.  Not so.  Unless setting acts like a mirror, or a foil, or even an antagonist, it doesn't contribute to our emotional engagement with the character who is in it.

That's why good writers choose setting details very carefully.  Some may use a lot, some less, as they slowly show us a character's motives, emotions, and purpose in the story.  Each element of setting that is used MUST show us something relevant about the character's emotional challenges.  Not just their history.  Their story. 

An example:  An author decides to describe a river early in chapter 1.  It's a good description but it must be more than that.  The reader will need to see how that river plays an important role  in the character's growth or challenges in future chapters.  Another example:  A silver mirror is beloved to the protagonist's grandmother.  She keeps it on the dresser and looks at it, remembering this dear person in her life.  But this mirror has zero meaning to the reader as just a setting detail, as just a memory, unless that memory plays a key part in the changes the character faces now. 

Even clothing (a type of setting detail) is carefully chosen in good stories.  Cowboy boots are fun to give a character, but what do they tell us about this person?  How do these boots change meaning as the person grows?  There better be some meaning, or else the reader will not "receive" this setting detail as relevant.

Finding the Relevant Details
In my early years as a writer, I liked to list a lot of setting details in my opening chapter--I wanted to "set the stage," so to speak, get the reader into the location that I'd studied and lived with for so long.  I was itchy to download everything. 

Then I noticed how my beta readers would glaze over--even skip!--my settings.  Eventually one asked me, "Why are you adding all this stuff here?"  "Because it's interesting," I said, offended.  "It may be interesting," she said, "but it tells me nothing about the story."

I realized two truths from this feedback.  (1) Setting isn't always interesting to readers.  I had to make it directly relevant to the story, and especially the character.  (2) Frontloading my first chapter with setting didn't engage readers, many times.  Again, it was useful only if it mirrored the character's challenges.

I devised an exercise that I use with my writing now.  In early drafts, I let myself dump as much setting on the page as I want.  Then I begin to sift it for relevance.

This is the exercise I gave my student.  I think it'll make a difference in his writing.  See if it makes a difference in yours!

This Week's Writing Exercise
1.  Using one of your chapters, make a list of all setting details.  This might include physical surroundings, objects, pieces of furniture, paintings or photos, a coffee mug, clothing, even music playing in the background. 

2.  Next to each, write its purpose in one of your character's (or real-life 

player's, if writing memoir) journey. 
 

3.  Anything that doesn't have a direct, clear purpose--that's not obviously used by the story to further our emotional understanding of the people involved--needs to be looked it.  Can you get rid of it? 

Jonathan Odell on Living Out of the Imagination

I'm so pleased to have Jon Odell, author of The Healing and The View from Delphi, as guest this week.  Jon shares an unpublished essay that he prepared several years ago when he was working with fifth graders on "keeping their stories alive." He told me,"Kids are the real story experts and taught me more than I taught them. They caused me to re-remember and revise my recollections about writing."
  

In life, you can either LIVE OUT OF your imagination, or you can LIVE OUT OF your history. 

That's what adults do with much of our lives. We live out our history, doing the things that have worked once upon a time, obeying the rules, avoiding the things that didn't work and stubbornly refusing to imagine a new story for ourselves.     

One of my favorite quotes about childhood was written by Graham Greene. He said, "There is always one moment in a child's life when the door opens and lets the future in."

I remember plainly that happening to me when I was about four or five. My father and I are out driving. As always, when he approached the railroad tracks near our home, he comes to a complete stop, even though no train is in sight.

This time I ask him, "Daddy why do you stop?"

He nods up at a big white sign with black writing. "Cause it tells you to."

I didn't hear anybody tell my daddy to do anything. "Who told you? What'd he say?"

He points. "See, it says 'Mississippi Law Stop.'"

Those were the first three words I learned to read. And they held magic. Not because they told my father what to do. But because he did it. Nobody told my dad what to do.

I mean nobody.

But these strange markings called words held a power over my father. I was impressed. It had to be God speaking through those words.

That's when I illogically, insanely and unscientifically fell in love with language.

From then on, when we approached a Stop sign or Yield sign, I begged to get out of the car and for Daddy to hold me up to touch the signs, to let me run my fingers over the raised lettering. In that moment, the door opened and let the future in.

Soon I would forget.  

 

The door didn't shut all at once.  It began in the first grade. Education was about being taught to see things like others have seen them for generations before. About learning the cold, dead facts of the world. Competence, proficiency and performance. Meeting others' expectations.  

Imagination and creativity were not appreciated.

I hung on a few years trying to live out of my imagination, trying to believe in magic. But day-by-day the world became less enchanted. Music was no longer something you spontaneously sang when you were happy. No, it became a dead animal that could be dissected into bars and notes and key signatures.

A flower could be analyzed by its components, without once taking into account its beauty, its fragrance, the way it made you feel loved by God. Everything could be pulled apart, sorted and compartmentalized, pinned down like butterflies in a glass display case.  

  

It was in the 5^th grade when the fatal break with my imagined life occurred. My teacher was Mrs. Ainsworth. Her motto was, "A child's learning will never interfere with my lesson plan."

It was close to Easter and Mrs. Ainsworth told us we were going to have an art contest. I was excited. I loved to draw. To a kid, a blank page, like the future, is an invitation to create something totally your own.

I remember exactly what I drew. I put three crosses on a purple hill. Purple was a sad color and I knew God was sad watching his only boy die. So of course the ground had to be purple.

Mrs. Ainsworth chose my picture to use as a bad example of art. She said she had never seen purple grass. She told us real art, art that counted, was about color schemes, geometric shapes and proportion.

I learned, once and for all, enthusiasm, originality and joy did not count for much in life. Keeping your head down and following the rules did.

Your masters didn't care what you loved, only how well you mimicked their thinking.

A door shut. It took another forty years to pry that door open again, reclaim the magic and become a writer.

  

It's taken a lot of work, spiritual and emotional, to recover what little bit of boldness I now possess to imagine a new future. To transcend my history and see new options.

One way I've done it is to give myself "do-overs."  Kids get to do do-overs all the time, when they shout, "That doesn't count! Let me do it again!"

I went back to an old bully in the 7^th grade who made my life hell. We met over coffee and I told him what school had been like for me. He listened, apologized. We're now friends.

Last September I had a chance to do a do-over that I hadn't planned. I got a call from a one-of-a-kind schoolteacher. He knew about the work I was doing with story and wondered if there was there anything that could apply to kids.

His students were at an age where they were learning competences like reading and writing, but he wanted make sure they didn't lose their own internal voices--their creativity and imagination. 

I could almost hear their doors creaking shut. "What grades are we talking about?" I asked.

Of course I knew what he was going to say. "Fifth grade."

Talk about returning to the scene of the crime! I was going to get to do the fifth grade over, without Mrs. Ainsworth. 

When I showed up I had 54 children looking up at me. I could see in their eyes that the magic was still there, their willingness to believe the unbelievable. I asked myself, if I were one of them, what would I have loved Mrs. Ainsworth to tell me in the fifth grade? I had the overwhelming urge to shout, "Run for your lives! Don't believe what grown ups tell you! The magic is REAL! If you lose it you'll never get it back."

Instead I slowly looked around the room, taking in the attentive, respectful group.

I noticed they were all wearing their Catholic school uniform. Blue slacks and dresses, white shirts. Then it hit me how to begin.

 

I asked, "How many of you played dress-up when you were a kid?" This quiet, well-behaved group of kids who were trained to raise their hands to speak, spontaneously erupted in laughter and animated chatter. Everybody was telling their story at once.

When I was able to get their attention, I asked, "Now, how many of you had fun getting dressed this morning?"

The energy died. No one moved. The question had returned them to the world of competence, of right and wrong, of denying your uniqueness so you don't stand out. A world in which imagination only gets you in trouble.

I told them that this was like writing.  Writing has a lot of rules that you have to master or you won't get very far. Punctuation, spelling, neatness, grammar. I told them it was like wearing a uniform to school. Sometimes you got to do it.

But I told them OUR story writing was going to be different. "When you write your stories, I want it to feel like playing dress-up.  There are no rules. Spelling doesn't count. Neither does grammar nor neatness. You can write at your desk, on the floor or standing on your head. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks. You get to try things on and decide if they fit you or not. Just listen to what makes your heart jump. That is your own personal voice trying to speak. Write that.   

THAT'S what the best writers do."

 

Pulling the curtain back on writing:

1. Writing well has an element of play

2. The best writers are the best re-writers

3. For professional development, writers hang out with other writers not critics or adoring fans.

4. Story is a shared experience. Story begets story.

It's about the story first, second and third: grammar, neatness, form and structure must be learned but the urge to tell a story is innate, fragile, individually unique and must be honored, unconditionally affirmed and protected from the critics of the world.

Your story, your voice is what's going to see you through in a world where most people are living out of their history, rather than their imagination.

Read more about Jonathan Odell's books at www.jon-odell.com. 

Writing, Editing, and the Power of Three--A Guest Interview with Writer and Editor Jeri Reilly

Jeri Reilly is a writer and freelance editor. She is currently writing a book--a manifesto for baby boomers--with co-author Eric Utne. She blogs about word matters at www.jerireilly.com and can be followed on twitter @jerireilly. She lives in Minneapolis and sometimes in Ireland.

Tell us about your background as an editor and writer.

I fell into editing because I was a writer. For many years I worked for a cultural organization where I wrote and edited all kinds of communications for management.  

One day I told my boss I needed to get some credentials--so that when I told this or that manager that they had to change a word or a sentence, I would know which rule to cite. So they wouldn't take it personally. My boss agreed, and so I flew to Chicago and took an intensive course taught by the managing editor of the Chicago Manual of Style.  

I returned to work elated: I had my University of Chicago Publishing School certificate, I knew my way around the latest edition of CMS, and I had a lovely box of (erasable) colored pencils for marking up pages.

Editing has given me a lot of freedom. It made it possible for me to live in Ireland after I left that full-time job. When I moved to a 200-year-old stone cottage halfway up a mountain, I brought my American clients with me, via dial-up internet. One of my writers, a memoirist, did not write on the computer but was undaunted by the distance between us.  

He would mail his drafts to me in a sturdy box, and when I was done marking up his 350 or so pages, back they would go into the box and across the Atlantic to Hackensack, Minnesota.

When I wasn't editing and writing I was trying to survive in Ireland. The day's chores included keeping a fire going in an enameled Rayburn range, and that involved tongs, a metal bucket, and lots of turf, coal, and ashes. A wayward ram kept a peaceable eye on me from where he had newly settled under a large ash tree outside my kitchen window. A primordial band of horned and bearded mountain goats sometimes passed the woods beside my cottage--etching the air with their feral emissions.

I was no longer living an abstract and hygienic existence. I was living through my senses, and that changed my writing, pulled me out of my head.

Also, I was immersed in what is really another form of English, and that shook up my diction and syntax.

But to get back to your question--although editing and writing seem to be closely related, they are completely different kinds of activities. I recently wrote a blog post about this because some people say you can't be a good editor if you are also a writer. I know you can be--but only if you take off your writer's hat while you are editing and lock it up.

Why are you passionate about editing/writing?

I write and edit because I love language and words. And because reading and writing are humanizing activities. Writing roots you.

To be a writer is not to be a technician of language as much as a fortifier of language. Marketspeak exhausts, if not corrupts, our language, and we writers have to charge it up again, word by word. We preserve language by refreshing it. That is one of the pleasures of being a writer.

Some people say we are moving to a post-literary culture. Maybe this is so. But despite all our digital technology, I think language remains our coolest invention. Stories will always be as essential to our survival as food and water.

Your recent post on the power of three in writing--can you recap the most important points? Why is this topic interesting to you?

When I am editing, I sometimes have to invoke the Rule of Three, that is, whenever the cluster of items the writer has used is more or less than three. It seems that groups of threes are naturally most pleasing to our mind, eyes, and ears. As I said in my post, when you present a list, you do it most indelibly if you do it in threes.

I was moved to write The Power of Three after discovering the rhetorical term for this phenomenon, tricolon, in a piece by Sam Leith on Draft, the New York Times writing blog. Tricolon refers to a sentence with three parts such as, I came, I saw, I conquered.

I've since discovered a related term, hendriatris, which refers to the use of three words to convey a single concept or image, such as "cool, calm, and collected" and "tall dark, and handsome."

While our affinity for threes still seems a bit mystical to me, there is, reportedly, a neurological basis for it. We humans are pattern makers, and three is the smallest number required to make a memorable pattern. It's no wonder then that we carry so many threesomes in our heads: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness; blood, sweat, and tears; beg, borrow, and steal.

We writers, then, can work some magic when we summon the power of three.

Imagine if Julius Caesar had written, I came, I saw, I conquered, I went. Surely his report on the war against Pharnaces II in 47 BC would not have been remembered--and quoted--all these millennia since. 

This Week's Writing Exercise

1. Read Jeri's post, The Power of Three, by clicking on the title.   

2.  Think about how you use the power of three in your own writing.  Are you taking advantage of this tool? 

Famous Writers' Desks and Workspaces-- The Importance of Having Your Own and What It Means to Your Book Project

Writers can write anywhere--right?

If you're really creative, you don't need a specific space, a writing room, or even a desk of your own.  With our iPads and smart phones and laptops, our writing can be truly portable. 

We don't need to worry about finding a special spot to grow our books.

Right?  For me . . . Wrong.

Maybe when we're dabbling, maybe when we're still in the exploring phase, we can disregard the idea of having a "room of one's own," as Virginia Woolf famously said. 

But like the difference between a date and a marriage, books are a long-term commitment to your creativity, and they will thrive if we give them a sacred space to grow.  This is something I've known for a long time, but I had to relearn it recently. 

Pros and Cons of Portable Writing Rooms
The 1700s farmhouse where I live with my family is short on space and long on charm--especially outdoors. 

We moved there not because of the house itself, but because of the hilltop views and conversation land it backs up to.  I have an enormous garden; a la Barbara Kingsolver, we're trying to grow much of our own food.  It's paradise, in many ways.  At least, outside.

The interior is still 1700s.  Cramped, sweet, made for shorter people than most.  People who don't need separate spaces for writing books.

I am married to another creative artist.  Figuring out studio space has always been challenging.  We each wanted doors that close, enough room to put ideas on the wall (Post its, posters, photos).  Ability to be uninterrupted.  Not easy to figure out.

Negotiating Writing Space
It took negotiating--a lot!  We took turns going "off site" (library, a small art studio we ended up renting, outside in the garden in nice weather).  This worked fine for much of my writing.  As long as I was in the exploring phase of my novel, I could work on it anywhere.  But in fall 2012, I went into revision.  And I struggled with not having a dedicated space.

A woodshed is tacked on the east end of the house.  It has been my writing room, but I haven't really written in there.  The room is rather scrappy.  Although I love the windows, the sunshine, the view of the garden, it takes some imagination to make it an ideal creative space.  We added a heater and a ceiling.   Bookshelves and a desk.  Hung fabric on the walls.  Added a couple of posters and paintings.

But even after these were in place, it took me a few years to adopt it as my writing space.  I was too used to camping out in the family room or on the porch, taking my laptop to the library down the road.  Convincing myself I could write anywhere.  

Reclaiming My Room
At New Year's, feeling a change, I decided to claim the woodshed.  I moved in and I practiced spending writing time in that tiny space.  I made myself not migrate. 

It took some weeks.  But slowly, I began seeing a surge in creativity.  Maybe it was because I was neck-deep in final revisions for a second novel, no long exploring. 

The book started to come together in a new way.  I put up a blank poster and wrote questions on it, put up my collage for my book, put up a list of next steps.  Wrote down ideas.  Saw this every time I entered "my space." 

After a few months I knew for sure:  Dedicated work space meant deeper commitment to my creative project.

Deeper Commitment Equals Better WritingDid the book somehow know this?  Was it glad to have me off the dining room table, out of the library at last?  Was I able to hear it, because I was meeting it every day in this dedicated space?

As if to confirm my new awareness, a writing colleague sent me a wonderful a series of photographs: Workspaces of the Famously Creative.  Click on the title to see the slideshow.

The Writer's Desk by Jill Krementz is another great resource for inspiration about writing space.  Krementz is famous for her photographs of writers, including her husband, Kurt Vonnegut.

My third find is a video of Oliver Sachs's desk--hearing about what he collects and why is enough inspire anyone's creativity.

Your Weekly Writing Exercise
1.  Pick one of these links and research creative workspaces to get yourself inspired and thinking in new ways about your own.      

2.  Make two small changes to your own workspace this week.  What can you add or take away to make a deeper commitment to your writing?  

Atina Diffley, Susan Hodara, Rachael Hanel, and Eric Utne--Four Great Writing Tips from Four Memoirists

I've had the privilege of getting to know four excellent writers through my book-writing classes. 

Atina Diffley is the author of the Minnesota Book Award-winning memoir, Turn Here Sweet Corn:  Organic Farming Works (University of Minnesota Press).  Susan Hodara is one of the authors of the recently released Still Here Thinking of You:  A Second Chance with Our Mothers (Big Table Publishing) and a journalist who covers the arts for New York Times and other publications. Rachael Hanel is the author of We'll Be the Last Ones to Let You Down:  Memoir of a Gravedigger's Daughter (University of Minnesota Press) and twenty other books.  Eric Utne is the founder of Utne Reader and is currently writing memoir for Random House with the working title Confessions of a Constant Seeker (on sale fall 2014). 

I asked each to share their favorite writing tip--something that has helped them during the process of writing their books.  They came up with four very different approaches (no surprise) and quite useful techniques for book writers at any stage.

Please check out their writing and enjoy their writing tips this week!

Your Unique Writing Style--Writing Tip from Rachael Hanel

Too often, I think writers hold themselves to high (and unrealistic) expectations.  We think that writers are expected to write a certain way.

But our writing styles are like our fingerprints--we each have a unique way we write.  Maybe we use a lot of commas.  Maybe we don't use any commas.  Maybe we have problems sustaining a story or essay beyond a few pages, or maybe we like to write in stream-of-consciousness fashion for twenty, fifty, or a hundred pages at a time.

It's no surprise that style is often referred to as "voice."  Just as our fingerprints are individual, so are our voices (both in speaking and writing).

In the early stages of drafting my memoir, many people told me "show, don't tell."  There's nothing wrong with this advice, and it's good to know what this maxim means.  But you know what?  I naturally "tell."  I have a journalism background, and I've always been an observer who tells stories.  It's hard for me to "show," and the results often sound forced.  During the revision process, I spent too much time stripping away the "telling" of my story because I thought it was the wrong approach.  After several more drafts, and several more years, I gained confidence in my own writing ability.  I learned you can show AND tell, or even mostly "tell," as long as it's done well.

I wish I had trusted myself more as a young writer.  I wish I hadn't been led astray by people who meant well, but who didn't really understand who I was as a writer and what my "voice" sounded like.  I wonder how much more quickly I would've drafted my memoir had I trusted myself right away.

I would be so happy if beginning writers trusted themselves from the start.  Listen to advice, consider the guidelines, but don't ever think they are "rules."

It's Worth Writing Poorly--Writing Tip from Eric Utne

If something's worth writing, it's worth writing poorly.  Ninety percent of the writing of even the best writers is unpublishable, i.e., it needs lots of revision, rearranging, and copy editing.

So . . . find yourself a good editor and take direction. 

When writing nonfiction, make a bold assertion, then back it up.  Too often writers bury their points where no one can find them.

And finally, if you want to make sure your writing gets published, start your own magazine!  (As my step-grandmother Brenda Ueland used to say, "Strength to your sword arm!"  And I would add, "Honey in your heart."

Before You Finish--Writing Tip from Susan Hodara

Before you deem a piece of writing "finished," take the following steps.  You'll be surprised by the changes you end up making before you're actually done.

1.  Walk away.  Eat some lunch, ride your bike, go to sleep--anything to take your mind away from the writing.  When you return, you will see anew--and likely find ways you want to revise.

2.  Walk away again.  Repeat this process until you don't find anything you want to change.

3.  Read the work aloud.  I do this away from my desk, to get further distance.  Read slowly.  You will hear things you didn't see on the page.

4.  Repeat #2.

There is a moment when we know the work is complete, when we've expressed what we set out to say in the best way we could.  But there are no guarantees!  You might reread your work the following week and find a typo, or a better phrase, or one more thing.

Retrieving Unclear Memories--Writing Tip from Atina Diffley

If I want to write a memory that is unclear or buried, I start by stilling my mind with simple deep breathing.  After I am calm, I visualize the part I can remember--noticing colors, sounds, and smells, focusing on the sensory elements.  It doesn't take long, a minute or two.

I start writing by focusing on the specific details of the visualization.  As I write, I allow my body to gentle rock forward and backward, and I continue to hold the visualization in my mind.  I find that often the visualization expands to the area around it, and the experience that happened, and the buried memory surprises me by flowing out through the writing.

If I get stuck or my self-critic slips in, I turn on the radio or put on a record and move my body. 

Eddie Rabbit's I Love a Rainy Night brought my memory of the first rain after the 1988 drought.  Rocks into Sand by Bill Kirchen inspired writing on the geological process of soil formation.

Often the answer is in the first song that comes on.

Update on Publishing Today: Interview with Nonfiction Authors Linda and Allen Anderson

Linda and Allen Anderson have an illustrious career as co-authors of fifteen nonfiction books, most recently the ASJA-award-winning memoir, A Dog Named Leaf. They both teach writing classes and work (Linda, full-time; Allen, part-time) on their current and future books--writing, editing, and marketing. 

With positive reviews from Publisher's Weekly, Library Journal, Country Living, Cat Fancy, Best Friends, plus dozens of other national publication, the Andersons' books have been listed in amazon.com Hot 100 and Barnes & Noble Top 10, What America Is Reading.

Celebrities Tippi Hendren, Valerie Harper, Brian McRay, Dr. Bernie Siegel, Betty White, Dr. Larry  Dossey, Penelope Smith, and Richard Simmons are a few who have endorsed or contributed stories to the books.

The Andersons' work has been featured twice on NBC's The Today Show and on ABC's Peter Jennings Nightly News, and they have been the subject of numerous national magazine and wire service articles, including interviews for London newspapers and the BBC.

Allen and Linda are close to the pulse of the current publishing industry.  In our chat, they shared some great tips for first-time authors today.

 How did you get started in publishing?  What was the process for your first book?

Allen:  We would take walks with our dog, Taylor, around one of the lakes near our home.  One day, we had the idea to ask people if they'd had a spiritual experience with animals or nature, something that was very important to us both.  I put notices on bulletin boards in grocery stores, coffee shops, and got back a lot of stories.  Stories about what people learned from an animal that made them a better human being.  So we started a newsletter.  In the back of our minds, we thought maybe one day it might be a book. 

Linda:  Our newsletter had 1000 paid subscribers from all over the world, and we saw there was really an interest in the topic.  At the time, nobody was writing about the spiritual aspect of animals.  It was a unique concept, to show animals as spiritual partners with people.  Through networking we managed to meet our first agent, a publicist who was just starting to be an agent.  Our first book, Angel Animals, was published by Plume, an imprint of Penguin-Putnam.  It was later reissued by New World Library as Angel Animals: Divine Messengers of Miracles.

           

We went  gangbusters with it.  That was 1999, and at that time Penguin was very influential in the industry; a new book would automatically be in all the bookstores.  We went on a book tour--which could be a book in itself! Allen got a new job right as the tour begin, so I did it by myself.  Then right in the middle of the tour, our daughter had surgery, so I flew to Atlanta to be with her, even though it meant taking four flights to get back to Denver the next morning for the book tour.  

What happened after the book came out?  Did you immediately start working on the next book?

Allen:  After Angel Animals came out, we lost some steam.  We weren't sure if we wanted to do another book.   The editor who loved our book had left.   We wanted to work with someone who really believed in what we were doing, in the spiritual connection with animals. 

Linda:  We found another agent, an editor who'd just left Bantam and was building her client list.  She was an animal lover who connected with the first book and loved what we were doing.

I read Publisher Marketplace-Publisher's Lunch--a free publication that comes out every day and has a regular section on book sales that agents have made to publishers.  It also lists agents who have left a big agency to form their own-which typically means that there's room for new clients.  I also read Publishers Weekly.

I saw one name twice--a new agent who'd just sold a spiritual book.  So we emailed her a query letter about our next book, she called us and set up a call. 

Allen:  New writers can do this too--just look for those who are starting out and trying to build their author list.   

What was your best experience with publishing so far?

Allen:  Our second book was with New World Library.  We flew to their offices in Novato, California, at our own expense to meet with the editor, publisher, and publicist, and we formed a team created out of appreciation for animals and what we were doing as authors.  This meant everything to us.  

Any new writer who is thinking about establishing a relationship with a publisher or editor, I recommend spending time with them.  Get to know them, have lunch with them.  Let them get to know you. 

We didn't do that with the first book.  Because of this, there was less of a team consciousness getting the book out there.  Think of your first book as one of many to come and realize that by building relationships with a publisher, you are building a career for yourself as an author.

Linda: My best experience was winning the ASJA award for Allen's memoir, A Dog Named Leaf, which was published by Lyon's Press, an imprint of Globe-Pequot.  It's so hard to get people to take an animal book seriously.  Literary reviewers are often dismissive and call animal stories "sentimental," so to get that kind of recognition from ASJA (American Society of Journalists and Authors), was just fantastic.  It's a breakthrough for all of us writing about animals.     

We also got endorsements from people with excellent credentials, which helped us to get publicity.  

How much marketing do you do for your books--how much time each week?

Allen:  For A Dog Named Leaf, I set up fifteen bookstore events around the country, dozens of radio interviews, trying to make a dent in the noise, trying to get people to look at what we're offering.  We do much of the marketing ourselves, because Lyon's Press doesn't specialize in animal books. 

I put in 6-8 hours of writing and 4-6 hours of marketing per week, usually, but new books demand more marketing so it came to many more hours.  Publishers now expect us to do the bulk of the work to get the book out there--doing the social media, writing the blog, etc. 

Linda:  There's a publicity department, and we work with a publicist on our new books, but we do most of it.  I work on it full time; I do marketing every day.  It's just like breathing to me, and I put in at least an hour a day, except when we're preparing for a new book to come out, when marketing becomes a full-time job:  sending out copies for reviews, contacting freelance journalists who could write about topics in the book.  I have Excel files like you wouldn't believe.

Allen:  She has a step-by-step approach to compiling all this information.  It's very methodical, because it takes that to get through the noise.

Linda:  We use Google alerts a lot.  They tell us when someone's written about animals, for instance, and their name goes on my list with notes about their articles.  We really court writers and reviewers who love animals.  We personalize the marketing, and I mention their past articles and anything else that might help make a connection. 

We're always looking for our next project, also, so we don't have the luxury of just marketing the current book.  I spend 3-4 hours a week researching the next project, and I spend most evenings writing-I'm more of an evening writer.  To reach people, you have to reach them during the day.  

What has been your worst experience in publishing?

Linda:  Publishers Weekly ran a review of A Dog Named Leaf, and it was as if the reviewer didn't even read the book.   I don't get offended when people don't like a book, but when it looks like they didn't read the book and misquote it, it hurts.  Amazon and Barnes & Noble automatically publish Publishers Weekly reviews; you have nothing to say about it.   

Or when you have a book event and nobody comes, that's hard.  It doesn't happen that often.  I've learned that it's not about attendance; it's about getting your book in the front of the store, getting signage for your book-whatever puts attention on your book and attracts people coming into the store. 

Another thing that hurts a lot is all the used book sales-you don't make any royalties on that.  On the other hand, it's great to get the book out there.

Can you live off your publishing?

Linda:  Unless you're a massively best-selling author, it's pretty hard to live on the cash flow from books, even more than one.  First, you only get paid with royalties twice a year.  Allen works full-time as a computer software trainer, and I teach and do book coaching and article writing.  As authors, we do everything we can because we love to write and get our books out there.  It would be lovely to be back in the day when people had rich patrons, when all you had to do is just write.  This would be my idea of heaven.  It's not true now, not for me anyway.

Any advice for new writers, especially in nonfiction?

Linda:  Prior to getting an agent or publisher, get a platform.  Build your presence on social media:  Linked In, Twitter, Goodreads, Facebook, Pinterest--anywhere you can get people to know you, connect with you.  This will help you a lot when you're trying to sell your first book.

Two writers can have identical skills and talents, and one of them publishes.  What's the difference?  Whoever can envision themselves as a published writer, will go for it, will succeed.  So much is related to your attitude. 

Allen:  I totally agree.  When we teach writing classes, we do a little exercise to help people view themselves as a writer.  We ask each person to introduce themselves and say, "I am a writer." 

Linda:  People have the hardest time getting up the nerve to say that!  We help them rehearse it in class.  Then we send them off with the assignment to say "I am a writer" to the next three people they meet who ask them what they do.  People are inspired by the experience, and it can change their attitude, what they believe inside. 

Allen: If it's not inside, it's not going to happen. 

See more about Allen and Linda Anderson on their websites:  www.angelanimals.net.www.allenandlindaanderson.com,
and www.adognamedleaf.com.