Collage Deborah Holland February 17, 2009
Observing and reporting on my writing process in a detached manner has been an extremely helpful exercise. My writing process is all over the place, and what I find astonishing is how much other work I do to support the process. My brain seems to require both visual and kinesthetic activity to process my thoughts and move my writing forward. I often resort to multi-tasking despite the fact that it shatters any mindfulness I have going-- I’m still writing in my head, as I mop the floor or fold a load of clothes. It is more of a luxury to knit, or to go sit in the tilty massage/heat jiggle chair and allow myself to become lost in my thoughts. I seldom work from an outline, and I usually start writing in the middle of my topic, then loop back and the forward as I write.
I spent most of last Monday thinking about what I want to write about the way I write, and although this practice thinking was useful, it was also task avoidance—words on paper may be modified and added to—but words in my head are still intangible. My biggest writing struggle centers around allowing my words to become visible – and I argue with myself as to what form would suit the writing best. I prefer composing on my computer, but if a printer is not readily available, then I’d rather write in longhand because I prefer to edit a tangible, not electronic copy.
How do I avoid writing? Let me count the ways:
I load the dishwasher, start supper in the Crockpot, start a load of clothes in the washer and move the clothes in the washer into the dryer—I check my e-mail, and then follow any promising leads regarding electronic dallying. This week, I shopped for comfort items—a padded lap desk so that I can recline and write instead of perching on the edge of the chair with my legs twisted sideways, reaching up to write on my laptop balancing precariously on a short barstool. I also found and acquired the most comfortable shoes on earth and tracked down portable laptop speakers and a 4GB SD card for my camera. (Then read the Office Depot advertisement and saw an 8GB for close to the same price, and a better deal on the speakers—luckily have not unpacked those yet, so back they go for an upgrade.)
What have I done to get ready to write the article on imagination? I’ve posted my root writing on Google documents and wrote a note to Kathy. (She wrote to me and suggested we collaborate, as we presented together last Fall at NCTE in San Antonio.) I also added English Journal to my NCTE subscriptions so I could look at EJ online and read the particulars of the call for manuscripts. Now that the skeleton of an article exists on Google doc, I’ll see where I can add to it. I still need to write to Kathy and tell her the name of the other book that I think she needs—growing up digital—and start taking some notes about the points we need to hit in the article. I also need to print out a copy of the multi-modal literacy guidelines and also a copy of 21st century guidelines for literacy, just so we can refer to it while writing.
My writing process has evolved though the years. As an undergraduate, my writing fuel included Diet Coke and a large supply of Double Bubble chewing gum and/or peanut M & Ms. I would read all the sources I planned to use and then bookmark the places where I thought I should use quotes, then wait until the night before and whip out an essay. These days, I start writing much earlier and require fresh tea and instrumental music. Chocolate in any form still helps, but is not essential to the process. I’ve noticed that I bribe and make deals with myself in order to get fragments of work done. If you are wondering, the reward for finishing this work is stopping by Cool Stuff to see if they still have separate meditation bowl stick implements, because I bought a brass bowl yesterday that has great potential as a meditation bowl. I wonder if a wooden spoon would work? Sometimes, my reward is a nap, or a stroll in a garden, or making time for watercolor painting.
With a recent classroom remark in mind, I finally sat down and wrote just for a few minutes-- while watching Get Smart with my family. Not an ideal writing environment, but I’m still able to write in a fairly cogent manner. How fortunate am I to know touch typing, so I don’t need to look at the keys. Writing for a few minutes at a time may be my best strategy in the future, given my hummingbird (much better than ADD) nature. Upon reflection, my writing is much like a collage—I move words around, then add and delete until my essay assumes its final form and is launched into the world to be discovered by others. I’m working on non-attachment, as it is still a little difficult to release my writing, but my detachment grows with every launch.
1 comment:
Hi, Debbie, your reflection over your own writing process just rang a bell in me, especially the point your mentioned that we need to do a lot of other things to support our writing.
I also had this experience that when I got stuck in my writing, I would rather to resort to other housework, like cooking and doing laundry, but inevitably, I just found that I was still writing in my head although my hands were folding clothes or bringing the tray out of the oven.
I think that was because our thinking process was still dwelling on the writing that we were so worried about and so focused on.
Post a Comment