If you've finally managed to carve out a chunk of time to sit down at your computer and write, you don't want your writing time to be full of interruptions and writer's block.
Photo by Brandon Warren
When I sit down to write, I expect to just write, not get distracted by a thousand different things. With that in mind, here are three ways to be prepared so you're not getting up every few minutes for something.
1. Turn off all distractions
Distractions may vary depending on the kind of person you are, but most writers get distracted by:
- Facebook, e-mail, Twitter, etc.
- Cell phones
- Something on TV
- Their kids (or parents/little brother, if you're me!)
Turn off your cell phone (and put it far away from you so you're not tempted to turn it back on!); turn off your WiFi (there are plenty of free programs online that do this for you) or have somebody else in the house change the password so you can't get back on until you're done writing; and turn off the TV and have somebody hide the remote.
2. Have your writing supplies ready
There's no set list of writing supplies that every writer needs by their side, but my list includes:
- Pencils
- Paper
- iPod and headphones
- Snacks/hot chocolate
- Folders of story notes
Make sure everything you may need during your writing session is within arm's reach. Getting up to retrieve a sharpened pencil can be what causes you to forget a genius line or plot twist.
3. Lock yourself in your room
As mentioned in the first tip, the biggest distractions can be the people living in the same house as you. For me, it's my parents and little brother (mostly my little brother).
Since I can't drive myself to the coffee shop or someplace else that's distraction-free, I have to settle for taking my laptop up to my room and hanging up a sign that says, “Shh! Kate's writing! Interrupt and suffer the consequences!”
(And as a writer, your consequences can vary from turning them into the villain, dropping them in your own version of the Hunger Games, or simply killing them off in your book. Not that I've ever done this, but they know it's a possibility.)
Find a place where you can write with minimal distractions and make it very clear to your family that you're not to be interrupted while you're writing. It works for me (most of the time).
How about you? How do you make the most of your writing time?
PRACTICE
Use the tips from this post and write for fifteen minutes about a writer trying to edit her novel while taking care of twin girls.
Do you find that your writing improves now that most of your distractions have been eliminated? Post your practice in the comments section. Be sure to give your fellow writers some feedback, too!
I still can’t believe you’re so young! You write so well. And please, change your bio section from “aspiring writer” to just “writer.” You are a writer. There’s no “aspiring” to it.
I second this!
Oh absolutely! You’re most definitely a writer, period, and I love your great advice.
I write during my son’s naps at home, and in cafes, but I think earplugs would help when I’m out. There’s nothing worse than sitting near annoying chatty people while trying to write.
Thank you! 🙂 Yes, I recommend earplugs or noise cancelling headphones for when you’re out. Or maybe some music? If you’re easily distracted, classical is a good choice.
Aww, thank you! 🙂 You’re right, I should probably change that.
Congrats on developing good writing habits so early! And good for you for having the courage to tell your stories. Good luck!
Thanks! 🙂 And you, too!
Go to a cafe, sit in the corner, if you can afford get Bose antinoise headphones or any kind of headphones with loud music, if you use your iPhone for music use do not disturb function or just ignore all if these and just oh yo a very loud place and will get same results to concentrate.
Great ideas. 🙂 I find that music actually helps me to focus more than if I don’t have it on. I must’ve gotten into the habit of listening to it while I write. Good point about the iPhone!
Time
Since I share a computer with my husband, I have to plan my time for using it. Some of what i write I do in the afternoon while we are at a cafe using pen and a notebook. Of course, that has to be transcribed later. Later is often much later, from 9:00 to midnight or early in the morning from 7:00 a.m. to about 9:00. Time, like money, requires a caraeful budget.
I have twin granddaughters, now nearly 16, and can relate to your suggested prompt.
I babysat for them many times, and was usually unable to get any writing or reading done unless they were asleep.
TIME——————
Blessed quiet. So quiet Fran heard the birds chipping outside. Free time. She stretched and remembered when she had lots of free time and a slim figure. She should get on the treadmill and begin to work off those extra baby pounds which she had hung onto far too long. No. A long soak in the tub. Sighing Fran sank down on the couch and rested her head against the cushions. With luck, the twins would nap for at least an hour, maybe longer. It was tempting to nap as well. No. She pushed herself up and went to her computer, booted it and brought up the novel she had begun two years earlier before Annie and Laurie were born. Her New Year’s resolution was to finish it
in six months. It was now April, and she was no where near finished. It had
been nearly a month since she had written anything. Now, where did she leave
off?
For the next five minutes Fran read what she had last written. Hmmmm… What happens next? Where does her character…? Yes. That’s it.Fran raised her hands above the keyboard ready to type but stopped before touching the keys. Was that one of the girl’s calling?
“Mommie…” came the cry a second time.
After a brief back rub and half a lullaby Laurie was sleeping again.
Back at the computer Fran tried to retrieve her thoughts of ten minutes earlier, and again read last month’s writing. Gone. Perhaps forever. Staring at the screen Fran saw nothing but a blur of black marks on a white background. With a decisive click, she shut the computer and headed for the living room and the couch where the impression of her body was still visible in the cushions.
Adelaide
Those twins didn’t sound as naughty as mine:) I love your last sentence.
They had their moments when I wished I had not voluntered to babysit.
Adelaide
Hi Adelaide, Sharing a computer is difficult and I am thankful that my husband has his own! During my pre-technology years, I journaled, filling two or three notebooks a year. I also used calendars to track time and activity. Most of that, the first twenty years or so was never transcribed and I tossed in my heap of belongings at the curb while clearing my home after Hurricane Katrina.
My husband, an English teacher, spends hours each day at coffeehouses grading students’ papers. I prefer to be alone, writing.
Great practice. 🙂 Were your granddaughters actually named Annie and Laurie?
I wrote a timer program that I set for 30-120 minutes. I start it on my computer and begin writing or editing. The program talks to me too. I wrote it to say encouraging words to me in 30 minute intervals. It actually has helped me stay focused to write longer.
That’s a great idea! 🙂 What program is it? I’d love to share it with my writer friends!
Great post! To signal to my household that I am writing, I got a sheer canopy thing (technically a mosquito net), the kind that people put over princess-y beds…I and put it over my desk. When I am under the net, no one can interrupt me!
Christine @ Better Novel Project
That’s something I’ve never heard before. Good idea! I bet that’s a lot harder to ignore than a sign taped to your door, which my brother often doesn’t see.
I write for a couple of hours while everyone in my household is asleep between midnight and 5 am. I usually get some sleep first and then when I awaken after having had a dream sequence or two, I get out of bed, take my laptop into the guest room, close the door and write in the dark. Then I take another nap for an hour or two, get up, make coffee and start my day.
—
I am so tired. I knew that having twins would be more difficult than one but I am tired. I can’t stop crying. If I could find, if I could steal an hour or two while they were asleep to focus on editing my last chapter, maybe, just maybe the book would be finished in another week. Well this draft would be ready to ship to my editor. I won’t lie to myself: I will only have finished this round of the work. I have to focus on finding the time to read, and revise.
Am I a bad mother if I’m typing with one hand while the babies nurse? The only quiet time is when they’re down and that’s when I need to sleep too. I love them enough to nurse and they’ll forget that my attention was divided while we were connected in the most intimate and nurturing way. At this point, I don’t care. I spend three hours a day attached to two other people. Every four hours I can get in at least fifteen extra minutes of writing. They’ll focus on doing their thing, while I read aloud to them and scribble my notes. We’re a team. We can do this!
Wow. I couldn’t survive on such a schedule. More power to you.
Adelaide
Thanks, Adelaide. Somehow my body has adjusted to my will. I have also become better at resting when I feel fatigued. Have a great day!
Greta
I’ve heard a lot of writers say that they write when everyone else is asleep. It’s a good plan, since there won’t be so many distractions. 🙂 I loved your practice. Especially the way you ended it on a hopeful note!
Yes I get a lot accomplished when it’s quiet and I can hear myself thinking. Thanks, Greta
Facebook… 9gag… I can turn everything into a distraction if I wanted too. I find laptop + internet is the most distracting, however. And for some reason, I can’t stand looking at the blank paper of word doc without feeling nervous. That’s why I write on my Blackberry, on its memo and then just email it back to myself when it’s done. The slow internet on my phone, no games and very few apps, and its small screen somehow help me a lot in getting myself focused. Plus, I can write on it whenever and wherever I want–in the bus, while laying down on the bed, at a park, anywhere! If you’re like me who get nervous everytime you stare at a blank page, writing on your phone might as well work for you :_
Hello Michelle,
I had this same problem with lonely sentences on a big white page of Writer (OpenOffice’s suite) so I started using my Tomboy. You should check it (or it’s clone, GNote) it has no page-break; after you start writing, you’ll never have to stare at an endless A4 full of desperation and loneliness.
My first story started on Writer, but as soon as I changed to Tomboy the words just started appearing and the storytelling flowed beautifully. When I pasted back to the Writer, I had 16 pages ready to send my readers!
Hope it helps. 🙂
Hey, that’s an interesting thought. 🙂 When I’m out and desperate for something to write on, my iPod does the trick, but I can’t type nearly as fast as I can on my computer, and that really starts to bug me after a while. Yes, Facebook seems to be a common distraction!
Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!
The sunny beaches of Aruba swiftly fled by the intrusion of my own double troubles. The twins.
Thing 1 bounced up and down, tugging my sleeve incessantly. My shirt sleeve button, long neglected for more important things like making dinner and picking up the twins from daycare, popped off and rolled under the dresser. Leave it, Macy, I say. But I’m really just telling myself to leave my world. My world of palm trees and blue skies and roaring oceans.
Blah trees, blah skies, roaring twins.
I scoot Thing 2 out of the room on the pretense of getting him a snack. Thing 1 bounces behind me. I make it to the fridge, still rehearsing my hero’s meeting with his love.
Her beauty struck him as dusky and sweet, mysterious and aloof. She wouldn’t look at him. If she would only look at him.
Screams interrupted me. Why weren’t they at the fridge yet? I turned. Thing 1 in a choke-hold by Thing 2. Thing 1 yanking out Thing 2’s hair.
He’s choking me! Thing 1 screamed. I did nothing. I was just standing there!
Mom! Thing 2 yelled back. Mom, she LOOKED at me. She asked for it!
Man, that kiss seemed far away. Why do you always have to fight? I moan.
Why are you always busy? Thing 1 asks.
I. AM. TRYING. TO. WRITE. I say. And I’m not yelling. I’m just talking really loud.
Thing 1 starts crying, and Thing 2 laughs at her.
So much for my island retreat.
I’m sure Thing 1 and Thing 2 will appreciate what you have to give up (or share with them, the time, i mean) when they are older. I love that you called them Thing 1 and Thing 2.
Adelaide
My mom’s nicknames for my brother and me on her blog are actually Thing 1 and Thing 2. 😉
Oh man, I felt your frustration with this piece. I often feel like that, not quite out of my own world, imagining what’s going to happen next as I transition into the real world. Good job!
At 10:49 am, I was sitting at a barstool at the Salt & Lime, a saw-dust and sand-covered floor somewhere on a hidden isle named Santo Escondido. William October, the country singer famous for his songs of margaritas and boat cruises, sung about this place once. It was hard to find, but I was here, listening to the rhythm of a local band while I thought about the loss of love, the passage of time, loneliness and despair. The art of not knowing dictated where I was next. What was I drinking? Tequila? No, too cliché. A light lager with a hint of lime. Yes, that’s …
“Can I have a chewy?” That’s Natalie, my four-year-old and she’s whisked me from Santo Escondido back to Littleton, New Hampshire, the ski town just an hour south of the Canadian border. A “chewy” is one of those Quaker Oats granola bars that my wife loves and feeds to our daughters. I’ve never had a taste for them.
“Yes,” I answer, “But split it with your sister.”
Feet patter away down the hall and I hear a small commotion of boxes being opened and wrappers being unwrapped.
10:56: The bartender, showing his casual indifference, places a frosted mug in front of me. There’s a smell of salt water coming off the skin of the locals which, by now, must be a part of their scent. This is how they smell after years on the shore. There’s not a tourist here. No families, no children clamoring for chicken nuggets off a kids menu. Just us. Locals. Me with a beer, listening to music and waiting for my fish tacos to come off the grill.
“Natalie got the bigger half,” says Valerie, an identical version of the other daughter, but with slightly darker hair and a small freckle below her left ear. “She didn’t share right.”
There are tears begging to come out. A parenting dilemma. Whose side to take? Do I even get involved?
“Come sit on daddy’s lap,” I say. She will get a different reward. Natalie got the bigger piece of Chewy; Valerie gets dad time. “Wanna see what daddy is doing?”
“Yes.”
“I’m writing a story about a man. Alone. Eating a fish!” I say this as if eating alone is a punch line to a joke. She laughs. Minutes later, she’s off.
11:02: Back on Santo Escondido, I see the pico de gallo, the char of the grill on the fish, the cabbage and the chef’s famous sauce. I can taste it. Sweet, but with a finishing spicy kick. The classic move, leaning back to let the server place the plate in front of me, admiring the presentation, begging to take that first bite. There’s no turning ba …
“Daddy, can we watch Nemo?”
“Yes, honey, we can watch Nemo.”
I hit “command + s” and depart from my chair.
Aww, this was sweet. 🙂 I really liked how you wrote about the man in the book, as if he was you. My favorite part was the end, though. Great job!
Tank you! 🙂 I definitely will!