Sometimes, the hardest part of writing is the time spent not writing. Can anything good possibly come from waiting? Time is money, right? A precious resource?
Photo by Riza Nugraha
If you think about it, the process of writing is pockmarked with periods of waiting. Long, interminable periods of waiting.
You wait for ideas to strike. You wait for time to write. You wait for your browser to load your Web history full of research. You wait (sometimes a long, long time) on your brain, to make the connections your characters need to get from Act I to Act III. Once your long wait is over, and you have a completed work in your hands, read, re-read, edited, revised, proofed and ready to make its way through the creeks and streams of the publishing world to an agent, a publisher, a contest or a magazine, you send it off, breathe a sigh of relief, and you wait. And wait. And wait some more.
How can we make sure the time spent waiting isn't wasted? Here are a few ideas:
Composting: Grow Your Own Ideas
I like to remind myself of this fact frequently: I spent five years waiting for an idea—any idea—to surface in my life, some sort of essential clarity through which I could view things, string them together and make them storylike. While most writers have better luck finding ideas, wouldn't it be great to have a system that generates idea after unique and interesting idea? Try composting.
Composting, as Zen teacher and author Natalie Goldberg's Writing Down the Bones explains is a method of journaling that, if done correctly, yields a steady supply of ideas and insights that tend to multiply, like zucchini.
Composting is simple. To compost:
- Choose a composting notebook, and a set amount of time each day or so.
- Write down anything and everything in your mind. Dump it, like garbage, without editing, sifting, sorting or worrying whether it'll start to smell if someone stumbles on it.
- Do this for a while. Plant the beginnings of a habit.
- After you've done a few pages of composting, go back and reread your very first entries. Notice anything? Nothing yet? Okay. Keep composting.
- Go back again, and reread some more. What do you think? That tickle at the back of your mind is the beginning of an idea, a tender green shoot, starting to unfurl amidst the drivel you've been diligently scribbling.
- Draw out the idea. Look! You now have a work in progress.
- Repeat.
Midstream: How to Wait Well in the Midst of Writing
So your story arc is like an unfinished bridge. You're hanging down at a 45-degree angle, staring at the churning river below. Now what?
You wait until you know what happens next. That's what.
With this kind of waiting, there's nothing for it. You do a lot of staring out windows, at dust bunnies, at the backs of your own hands, wondering why the vein pattern on your right hand is different than the vein pattern on your left. (Seriously, shouldn't they be mirror images?)
Just keep waiting.
Revisions: How to Wait but Not Be Awkward About It
Ever stood next to someone after you've just given them an especially witty birthday card? You're staring at their expression, their eyes tracking across the words in the card, waiting until they get to the part—you know the part, the one that made you chuckle in the cards aisle of Walgreen's.
They don't laugh. Instead, they feel you staring at them. Your eyes meet. It gets awkward.
When you give beta readers, family, friends, editors, or whomever, your work to read and review, you have to fight every fiber of your writing body. You want to hover, and call, and ask how it's going. Don't. Instead, think to yourself, I need to let my ideas have the stage. The lives I've put on paper need to shine. And I need to put the phone down, close the computer, and stop emailing my editor.
At this stage in the game, only think about the positive parts of the story that's being reviewed. Think of your favorite character, your favorite scene, your most dramatic emotional moment and be proud. Someone out there is reading your story!
Hell Is Other People: What to Do When You're Waiting for an Answer
You've survived many different types of waiting in your long writing slog, but you need to steel yourself for the worst one of all: waiting to hear back from the editor, agent or publishing house where you've submitted your work. You'll have thoughts like:
I don't think they'll “get” me.
What if it slipped off the editorial assistant's desk and into the wastebasket? Should I send it again?
Was my email address blacklisted? Where's that submission confirmation?
How many weeks has it been?
Is there anything in my mailbox?
Maybe I should check my email inbox again. And again. And again.
Is anyone going to answer me?
The trick to beating this horrendous waiting interval is to abandon the idea that it's an interval at all. Once you submit your work, it's (literally) out of your hands. You've surrendered control to the caprices of the universe. So what do you do now?
Start on something else. Have a drink. Walk the dog. Forget about that novel. Drop it like the semi-serious significant other who's just gone on a ten-month research trip to the South Pole.
A lot of experienced writers even go so far as to recommend that a writer always have a new work beginning when they're in the final waiting period during submission. Rebuilding your momentum is important, and can be the thing that carries you through if (and the possibility does exist) rejection temporarily knocks you down.
What are your strategies for getting through the waiting part? Share your experience in the comments.
PRACTICE
For fifteen minutes, write about the last time you were stuck waiting on something, whether in the middle of the writing process, on an editor or during something else entirely. What was it like? What did YOU do to make it easier to wait?
When you're finished, post your practice in the comments section. And if you post, leave some feedback for your fellow writers!
I love the notion of composting. I recently bought a new journal that I knew I wanted to dedicate to something, but I hadn’t decided what yet. Obviously, I was waiting for this blog post. Thanks for the great ideas!
Happy composting, Sarah! One must always have a new notebook at the ready–because you just never know!
Composting is such a good way of putting it! I usually just call it freewriting, which is an amazing technique. When I write, I typically like to write my scenes in a notebook first, and that allows me to really utilize the margins. I’ll put all my questions and sparks of other ideas there. I love a composting journal though. What a great idea.
Thanks for another great article!
Jenny
http://www.blotsandplots.com
There’s definitely something unique about using a notebook, versus a computer (what I’m used to) to write. The ease of just picking up a pen, rather than having to open a laptop, open Word, open the right document, and find your cursor is just… freeing. (Hence, freewriting!)
Thanks for reading 🙂
I agree, computers are fast and …. legible! There’s something a little bit magic about a blank piece of paper, however. It’s the drug that made me write as a child – that pure white paper with a pen poised above it was intoxicating.
I’m not very good at waiting for answers, distracting myself with another project seems to work best for me.
I used to do composting a lot when I was just beginning to write. I haven’t done it for a while though.
Exactly. If I can turn “waiting” into “busy doing something else,” it’s just less agonizing.
Journaling is what I do. Particularly first thing in the morning when i’m still in a haze. I let myself write with no restraints. I’ve gone back many times and pulled out little nuggets i’d written months ago and used them in my current work. I’ve never heard it referred to as composting but I love that term! Also, if i’m waiting to make that plot connection in my story, going out for a run or something physical can help.
Emily, I couldn’t imagine writing so near to waking up that I’m actually still hazy… I think I’d wind up scrawling hieroglyphics. But that sounds like a great habit to cultivate.
sometimes in nonsensical haha but something about being so close to dreaming helps me be creative 🙂
I love journaling! It’s kind of like composting, saving all the treasures of your life in “nuggets” to use later. Also love the idea of a run for inspiration. Thanks for sharing!
I compost in two stages: first the entry in the little dog-eared notebook i carry round with me, second the entry into my journal in the PC. In this stage I often add something.
I’ve filled in about three notebooks so far, and my journal grows by the day. i also find it inspiring when I regularly read it for new ideas.
Absolutely love the composting idea! Once you submit a piece I’ve found it’s best to forget about it…..it takes editors forever(!) to respond. Just move forward with your next effort. If you hear back from them in the future, great! If you haven’t read Jeff Goins’ book “The Inbetween Time” (enduring the waiting times in your life), it is so worth your effort. “Each wait has a crucial lesson,” he says. So, enjoy the moment of your next inspiration!
Hi Ruth, that’s great advice! Jeff’s book is on my list, and I can’t wait to start reading it.
I like the compost idea too. In fact, the humor infused in this post is encouraging and empathetic. Thank you, Procrastiwriter!
I keep thinking of myself as a green sapling. I have a lot to learn. I guess that is what helps me wait. My life is pretty jam packed with stuff I have to do, so the waiting on writing has to be compartmentalized into the hobby category. I figure it is like medical school. I know it has been said before. No one becomes a surgeon in six months. At least not one with a sharp scalpel.
In the meantime, instead of staying at the level of ‘hacker of words’ I’ll keep scribbling, keep fleshing out the craft, until I become a wordsmith. I don’t want to publish a book just to say I published and no one reads it. Politely, no one comments, but whispers under the breath, ‘this is just butcher paper…shhhhhh’.
I’ll just breathe, drink wine (not too much), comfy in my yoga pants, and enjoy the cover of a new spiral, and the heavenly blue ink that swoops and curls across the page. I’ll go back to my Bible verse when I was 19 that carried me on eagles’ wings: “They that WAIT upon the Lord, shall renew their strength. They shall mount up on wings, like eagles. They shall run and not be weary. They will walk and not faint.” Isaiah was good at waiting.
Really like the way you write. Wondering if you have magic keys because it seems to just flow so effortlessly.
Anne, That is so nice. You don’t have to say that. Thank you for reading. Lately, my magic keys are not really magic, but therapeutic for sure. Writing is a great escape.
Therapeutic I know. I have often taken a trip into my writing, sometimes staying longer than planned.
Wow, Susan. A friend said something very similar to me yesterday when I was bemoaning the fact that I don’t think my first novel with ever get published. She played me a song from the movie “Fireproof” about waiting on God. It gave me a great boost of encouragement.
Thank you, Deborah. I just attended an honors chorus concert for my 13 year old, and it was beautiful, but over so quick! So much practice went into the whole experience for it to be finished. That’s when I thought about any talent we develop. It isn’t just about the finished cover, the accolades, the notoriety. It is about the journey of writing itself. We have to find joy in the process, first and foremost.
Hi Susan, I think your story is very inspiring! Thanks for sharing it. And I think more writers should have your artistic ethos, in which you seek to hone your craft before chasing the spotlight of publication. It shows that you respect writing and you respect your future readers, and I’m sure the results will be worthy of your hard work. 🙂
Thank you, Shan. I am feeling hopeful. The rejection doesn’t repel or scare me as much as it used to. I think when the time is right, it will happen. I guess we only get better with practice. Again, thanks for this post.
I am learning to put pieces I’ve written on my desktop. When I know where to take these little ones I submit them. I assure those left behind that in time they will be chosen. It’s always good to start on the next thought that is pounding to get out. Throw those nets out. Then no rejection will be too much to bear. It will just be one chance of many.
Anne, your thought reminds me of the Bible verse, ( I think it is in Ecclesiastes) ,…Cast your bread upon the water, many times, for you don’t know what will return. Something like that…
Susan, the quote is from Ecc. 11, and finishes…”for you WILL find it after many days”. Give one hope, eh?
You’re right Susan. Yep we need to give hope.
I love that verse. It was helpful to us as a family when we were looking for employment.
This was exactly what I needed to read this morning. Thanks for the insight! (Seems like it was penned specifically for us writers 🙂 )
Thank you for your comment, Anne. It’s good to know that other writers have lost children in their files, waiting for a home. I’ve hated the idea of all my “little ones” forever relegated to some dark hole in my computer, never to see the light of day. You’ve given me hope that they might one day be legitimate pieces of serious work.
I realized one time that I was postponing sending something in. Like maybe I was feeling like I was choosing one piece over another and that’s when I decided to just look at it differently. All will get a chance. Now or later.
Oh what an insight! I am for sure that kind of Mom who loves all her children equally, but communicates with each, differently, depending on their temperaments. Maybe that is how it is with our writing pieces. We have to send them to the right foster publisher; one who will take good care of them.
Ditto to you Deborah! After being done having children, That is probably why I started writing. Now I need to reply to Anne on this subject. 🙂
Is that why they call them composition notebooks, because they are for composting? 🙂
Hyuck Hyuck. Good one Jonathan. 🙂
That’s a good one!
I think I’ll start my compost pile today – it’ll be half full straight away, with all the superfluous vegetation I have to cut out of my thousand-page novel before I submit it to yet another agent. How do I know I have to do the vege-chop? Because I’ve spent my waiting time reading everything anyone says on The Wrtie Practice!
I picture throwing out the ends of a celery bunch, or carrot tops when I make my kid’s lunches. I think of red raw meat, you think of veggies, ha, ha. You’re more accurate, Deborah. I just remembered that meat doesn’t go into the compost pile. 🙂