This is my story. In May 2024 I found myself in a writing rut. Actually more like a trench, maybe a grave.
I just didn’t want to write. By that I don’t mean I didn’t want to pick up a pen and journal for the day, something I have done since July 3, 1976, which makes a pretty much consistent daily journaling record of 48 years. (I have boxes of journals and notebooks.) I meant I did not want to write anything for public consumption. I did not want to start, pick up, or finish a writing project. I have a lot of started drafts in different stages—at least 4 novels and 3 Bible study books, a memoir, and three nonfiction books. Some are just notes or outlines, and some contain several pages or even chapters.
Putting words on paper or a screen is not hard for me. It’s therapeutic, it’s part of my life practice. But I had gotten to the point where I really didn’t care if I ever published another thing or posted another essay to my blog.
What had happened?
Burnout from work. Had decided to retire. Conflicted about these thoughts.
Felt unappreciated. Looking glass half empty. Going to the market was good, but I also would get annoyed that someone had not trouble paying $12 for a loaf of bread (good sourdough bread) that would be gone in a couple of days and was really little work for the vendor, all things considered, but they didn’t want to pay $12 for a book I spent a year or more of my life writing. I am not proud of these thought.
Really, existential angst. That’s a fancy way of saying, “what difference does it make?” Does the world, does anybody, need my books? Do they make any difference? Am I saying anything that no one else is saying? Worse, are people laughing at me behind my back? (yes, paranoid). Is any of this worth my time and effort when the world is going to heck in a hand basket? And further really depressing thoughts that I won’t share. A little scared about these thoughts.
On the flip side, our grandchild was born in January, and I want to spend time with her.
So, while I could habitually do my journal writes, and I could write emails or short reports for work, anything beyond that, I couldn’t do. I couldn’t get back into any of my projects. I tried, and this invisible hand seemed to pull me, my interest and motivation and even my ability, back.
So I decided to stop fighting it and instead read about good writing and read good writing instead of trying to produce any. By that I mean what does it mean to write and be a writer versus techniques for plot, character, etc I read several books on writing as a process, not a product. I read some nonfiction rather than fiction..
What did I read, what did I get out of it, and what do I recommend?
The first one was a book I can never remember the title of: Break, Blow, Burn, and Make by a novelist named E. Lily Yu. The title comes from a 17th century poem, so that gives you the idea. It is about writing literary fiction, and I mean literary. It’s for people who have a better literary background than most, and I haven’t read very many of the books she cites. Her argument is that our writing should be excellent and motivated by love, agape love. She is really into the burden that a writer bears, that we must take what we do very, very, deadly serious. While the book was fascinating, the kind of thing a serious writer would go back to once a year or something, it sort of added to my wallowing in the rut! I felt incredibly ignorant and poorly read while reading this book. I felt that I would never reach the standard she was talking about. On the other hand, I needed her emphasis on the spirituality of writing, and by that I mean Christian spirituality, that God must be honored and glorified in the quality of your writing (but not necessarily the content). Loved the book, but it didn’t get me writing. Or I should say, not immediately. I think it helped me through the existential angst. Only if I was going to write for the glory of God would it have any meaning. I could not write for money or recognition. It had to be for others, for agape.
I also read two memoirs Hillbilly Elegy and Surprised by Oxford, both of which were turned into movies. Hillbilly Elegy is controversial. Surprised by Oxford was a fast read but sometimes unbelievable.
Then I read Writing the Mind Alive, which is about proprioceptive writing. This is a writing exercise or habit/practice. I had heard the word, looked it up, and bought the book. It is simple. Every day go through this ritual:
1. Dismiss everything that could distract.
2. Light a candle (getting spooky)
3. Play Baroque music (Bach organ music)
4. Set a timer on your phone or elsewhere (which kind of takes away the distraction part)
5. Have lot of paper and good pens set up.
6. turn on the timer and start writing. Anything. If you get stuck, the proprioceptive question is “what do I mean by” the last word or concept you wrote or wrote about. Most of the time you start writing about where you are, your feelings. So if you wrote, “Things in my daily life are making me feel frustrated.” the next sentence would be “what do I mean by frustrated (or feel, or making). Answering that question moves on.
When the timer goes off, you stop, staple your papers, don’t read them, put them in folder, blow out the candle and turn off the Baroque music, and go on.
I found it very very helpful. And therapeutic, like free therapy. But the key is the ritual aspect, which I will come back to.
Then, my sister-in-law recommended the Artist’s Way, which I confess I have not finished. Julia Cameron’s thing is “three pages, first thing in the morning” and to have an art date every week. She has made a fortune off her books and notebooks. She claims the “pages in the morning” will help all artists, not writers only, and she has lots of testimonials. I think it’s about the habit, building the muscle, paying attention, getting debris out of your brain, listening to your own emotions. All of that is not writing, but it can prepare you for writing. Bits and pieces of what comes out in these exercises might help, in an actual work, or might be included, but it’s not meant to be a draft of anything.
Now, the question is, are we writing “journaling kinds of things, this is how I feel, this is what’s going on in my life,” or are we progressing on a manuscript that we want to show the world. Good question. I think it starts as “get it off your chest/out of your brain and emotions stuff” and that creates the muscle to move to a project writing.
This brings me to a book I read back in the spring, before my rut issues, but it’s worth mentioning. Save The Cat Writes a Novel. Based on the screenplay writing book, it is helpful if you have trouble with the idea of plot. It is very much oriented toward movie structure, I take issue with her analysis of some famous literature like Jane Eyre, and if you read a lot already you know it intuitively, but I do think it is useful if you can get a used copy of it.
The next resource I depend on is podcasts about writing and writers, and I would recommend The Habit with Jonathan Rogers out of Nashville. He has a Ph.D. from Vanderbilt but you wouldn’t know it. He is from Macon originally. He interviews different types of writers. I don’t always agree but they are always worth listening to. The Habit holds something called Hutchmoot (its logo is a rabbit smoking a pipe). It’s a conference but if you can’t go to the conference there is a video option where you can invite friends into your home to watch and discuss. I have been listening to them. The latest was by a poet named Sarah Chestnutt, whom I do not know anything about, but like a poet she was sort of mesmerizing to listen to and she played with words. She spoke about getting out of ruts and she was in one, and she recommended imitation. By that choosing a poem and following its patterns or themes. I can see this working for a short story, not so much a novel.
Next, one of the other faculty wanted to run a book group on the book Deep Work. Cal Newport. I can’t think of work that is any deeper than writing, so I signed up and got a free book, which is always good. But the book is worth paying for, at least for some people. Here is the condensed version:
In the knowledge economy, deep work (for solving problems, writing, innovation) is going to be more and more demanded and well paid. On the other hand, it’s going to be more and more difficult because of constant electronic distraction. After he makes that case, he shows the deep work is working smarter, not harder. He has a lot of information about how being distracted makes it all the harder to come back, and that we lose a lot of time and productivity by all the dings and pings Solution: Be a jerk and turn off all of that, don’t answer email, close the door, turn off your phone and in a distraction free environment, spend two hours really focused rather than 8 hours with the pings and dings. You will be more productive when you can deeply concentrate, but it does take some training.
This book had a good, and big, effect on me. I am rising an hour earlier and writing for an hour in the dark, no distractions. I am spending less time on email.
Interestingly, Cal Newport’s “tips” or “advice” have similarities with the other books, and one of those is the emphasis on ritual. Ritual doesn’t mean repetition, or habit, or boring. Those have some connection, but ritual really has a lot to do with transcendence, spirituality, meaning, searching, practice, holiness, sanctification. Some words from the Thesaurus;
Strongest matches
act, custom, formality, habit, liturgy, observance, practice, procedure, rite, routine, stereotype
Strong matches
ceremonial, communion, convention, form, ordinance, prescription, protocol, Sacrament, service, solemnity, usage
Cal Newport talks about having a shut-down ritual at the end of the day. The proprioceptive idea is a ritual, lighting the candle, blowing it out. Starting the music, turning it off.
I like to think of it as setting apart a time. Sanctifying it, making is holy. If we don’t want to use religious language, which is understandable, we can make the time “wholly” ours.
Does this make us selfish? Only if we ignore the needs of others for whom we have commitments and responsibilities in the 22 or 23 other hours when we are in this ritualistic space. If we are honest about ourselves, we find lots of ways to waste time. The only exception are caregivers of small children or highly ill persons, and if you are, you need a break from that any way and someone should be helping you.
I don’t say this like I don’t know what I am saying. I finished a master’s thesis when my son was a toddler when I was teaching full-time. My mom watched him two afternoons a week while I did research back in the day when you had to do it in a library, and I wrote after 9 when he was in bed. I wrote parts of a dissertation when my mother was in hospice and I had moved in with her for the last seven weeks of life. But other people in the family did their part; I wasn’t the lone hero and really we shouldn’t play that part; it’s not fair to anyone, to your family (who don’t get the joy of service), to your loved one who needs care, or to yourself.
However, you might not have the emotional bandwidth to write in those situations. . And that’s okay. For me, it put my mind off the facts of my situation, and I wanted to get out of graduate school in both situation. For years I beat myself over the head about not being disciplined about my fiction writing. What a waste. I was listening to everyone I heard at conferences who said they wrote three hours or more a day, blah blah blah. There was no way I was going to do that with a child and working full time.
I have come to the conclusion that writing should not be a chore, at least your personal projects such as your novels, poetry, memoir. There should be joy in it. If it’s a chore, slavery, horrible, distasteful, why are you doing it? Aren’t there more joyful things to be doing? If your life depends on it and you’re getting paid for every page you write and the mortgage depends on it, that’s different.
Am I contradicting myself? Write like its a ritual but don’t do it unless it gives you joy? Why can’t a ritual give you joy? Isn’t it what you bring to it?
I want to wrap this up with a couple more slides, quickly. I get Janisse Ray’s newsletter/substack info, Rhizosphere, and I always like her stuff and have met her several times. If you want to read one of the best memoirs available, get Ecology of a Cracker Childhood. Brilliant.
To conclude, these sources have certain commonalities. They are based on the premise that you are unstopping the spigot, clearing obstructions to the source of your creativity, and developing habits and muscles
You will move from writing blah-blah to having personal insights to producing something “for public consumption”
They are spiritual or quasi-spiritual. That takes a grain of salt. I joke that I am a Presbobapterian so I tend to roll by eyes at pseudo-Buddhist stuff. Julia Cameron The Artist’s Way is very much this.
I find it helpful to have a regular source of creative input (The Habit podcast, Housemoot)
You can spend a small fortune on books about writing, in any genre. This talk was sort of designed to condense the advice of them and give you an idea about some resources you might want to try or maybe not.
I have shared my journey over the last few years as a writer. That is what and who we are and it’s important we call ourselves that. Thank you for your time, and I want to share a photo of a cup another writing friend gave me. This cup affirms me. I hope you feel the same.
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