Some weeks ago, while reading Bit Literacy, I decided to teach myself touch typing with the Dvorak keyboard layout. Because I am 1) impatient and 2) constantly pressed for time at work (hence, my decision to switch), I’ve been taking things slow: practicing drills for an hour here and there, a few times a week, and using Qwerty the rest of the time.

Now that I’ve covered the entire alphabet in Dvorak, I’m making the switch.

Why?

It’s time to commit.

How often do we come up with new goals and ambitions – like writing a novel or learning a language – only to fall back into our old patterns and give up?

Sadly, this seems to be the norm. At least for me. And I’m tired of it.

Typing is a HUGE part of my life. This move can have a dramatic impact on my daily existence. Making the switch will be most inconvenient and annoying. But the faster I commit, the faster I’ll reprogram my brain.

Just as physical exercise reminds me to keep at my writing practice, these new finger movements remind me that I can break free from old patterns and create the habits needed for a fulfilling writing life.

Is it time for you to take the plunge in a specific area? If so, what is it and what’s holding you back?

My Facebook friends know all about my recent computer woes. They started when my computer started acting funny. Applications kept crashing. Restarting took several minutes, not seconds – an eternity by Mac standards. My keyboard sporadically stopped working.

At my wit’s end, I tried to wipe my hard drive and start afresh. (This was after Norton assured me that all was well on the Mac side of things.) My computer went into lockdown to protect its buggy self, and I hauled the machine to the nearest Apple store, where I described the problem.

Here’s where things went wrong.

I’m not the Genius here…

The very polite and helpful technician at Apple – one of their Geniuses – listened to me and cheerfully formatted my hard drive. Then, he reinstalled the latest version of Snow Leopard and sent me on my way with a clean slate.

Unfortunately, the problem was a hardware issue: my hard drive was in its death throes.

The technician helping me treated the immediate symptom: I couldn’t reinstall my operating system. He should have looked deeper to find out why my computer was acting screwy in the first place.

My takeaway

For the past month, I’ve struggled mightily with wrapping up this novel manuscript. I’m determined to finish this draft through before starting what I hope will be the final “working” draft. But I’m rebelling against the prospect of writing another 100,000 words of meandering garbage.

The symptom? I’m not writing. I feel like scribbling away in my notebook is an easy waste of time. Sure, I can churn out words, but I’m eating away precious time that could be spent writing stuff that might actually contribute to the final storyline.

I recognize this resistance and think, “Well, you just have to suck it up and forge ahead.” And it’s not working.

So, I finally took a step back, considered the underlying issue – my desire to not “waste time” – and decided I needed a road map.

Instead of freewriting the rest of this draft, as I have up until now, I’m going to plot out what has to happen to bring the current story to a conclusion. Then, I’ll get from Point A to Point B to Point C until I’m finished with the draft.

Had I dealt with this roadblock in the beginning, I wouldn’t have lost a month of writing by telling myself to gut it out and push through. Although I would still have had less writing time due to the computer issues…

What is your biggest roadblock to writing? How can you overcome it?

“Life is what happens while you are making other plans.”

Apparently, John Lennon was one of the many great minds credited with voicing this fact, which has been replaying in my mind for the past three weeks – minus the one week I spent at Folly Beach near Charleston, S.C.

Technology hell

My desktop computer crashed shortly before we departed for vacation, just a few days before a critical deadline. So the week’s plans went down the toilet as I scrambled to restore my software and documents – only to have the darn machine die a few days after our return. It wasn’t a software problem; my hard drive failed.

I dropped the machine off for service on Friday, before the holiday weekend, and picked it up on Sunday. When I started the machine, a cluster of dead pixels mocked me from the center of the display, right at eye level. So I trucked the diabolical device back to the store, where it now awaits the arrival of a replacement part.

Fickle Fates

Several times during the course of this inconvenience, I discovered the problem when I was anxious to start working on my novel.

Perhaps you’re one of those writers for whom words flow easily, so inspiration never poses a problem.

Bully for you.

I’ve been struggling with the end of this manuscript for several weeks now. Imagine my frustration when I finally hit upon a game plan, and I rushed to my computer… only to discover my keyboard standing at attention, while “Taps” played in the background. A variation of this theme happened not once, but twice, during the past three weeks, with both instances sucking up hours of my time as I attempted to perform cyber-CPR.

Bad Behavior

Did I snatch up a pen and paper and scribble down the creative thoughts that were zooming through my brain?

No. Both times, I spent a few hours on the phone with technical support before scheduling a repair appointment. Then, I pouted, poured a glass of wine, and sulked as I read a novel published by someone whose writing career wasn’t plagued by computer troubles.

As a result, I still haven’t acted on the brilliant idea I had three weeks ago.

Not acceptable.

Life threw me a curveball in the form of a cantankerous computer problem, and I struck out. First, I spent too much time trying to fix the problem myself. Then, I indulged in self-pity and gave myself permission to slack in the writing department.

So I didn’t have a desktop computer. I do have a laptop. And I’ve got pen and paper galore. Most of this novel draft exists in an oversized spiral notebook. So what if my nifty mind-mapping software isn’t available?

Anyway, the pity party is officially over, and I’m getting my sorry self back to the page. Now, I’m trying to figure out to avoid a repeat performance when the next curveball comes… because you know they’re out there.

How do you get yourself back on track when life happens and derails your carefully crafted plans?

Earlier this year, I was having a superproductive writing period. Writing most days, cranking out a high word count. Things were going well.

Until they weren’t.

Somehow I found myself more than 100,000 words in my novel, with no end in sight.

What went wrong, and how could I fix it, short of scrapping my manuscript and starting over?

Part of the problem came from writing in a vacuum. I was so focused on word count that I was writing blindly, without a plan and without any feedback or guidance. As a result, my motivation flagged, and I found myself fixated on the sheer awfulness of my draft in progress.

It was a recipe for disaster.

I finally gave myself a break and decided to indulge in reading for pleasure – something I hadn’t done for months.

Not only was it fun, but it also helped jumpstart my own creativity. And I could see how these successful writers were crafting their stories. Sure, I’ve always known that reading is huge in learning to become a better writer, but I had completely slacked because I wanted to finish this darn draft.

As a result, I was draining my creative energies without recharging them.

The result was the mental equivalent of a long-ago July 4th. We had used the last of the fuel taking our sailboat to the middle of Greer’s Ferry Lake near Heber Springs, Arkansas. As soon as we cut the engine, the wind died, leaving us stranded under the baking summer sun.

Out on the lake, we went swimming and made rum drinks.

This week, I’m trying some different tactics:

• Read fiction. I’m having fun and taking note of things like point of view, pacing, dialogue, character development, etc. Reading also reminds me of why I’m writing the novel in the first place – so I can offer the same entertaining escape to others.
• Read about craft. Like any writer skilled in procrastination, I’ve got a slew of books on writing fiction. Several specifically discuss the art of chick lit, the genre of my current manuscript. These books remind me of pitfalls to avoid and offer advice for fixing my mistakes.
• Connect with other writers. Classes and other writing groups offer support, reminding us that we’re not alone. I recently joined the Mystery Writers of America, and I’m also dipping my toes in the Writer’s Digest online community.
• Write anyway. It’s okay to suck. Really. It’s painful, but there’s no other way to become a better writer. So I’m doing all of the above and plodding ahead, convinced that my next draft is going to kick butt. And if not, then I’ll rinse and repeat.

What are your favorite ways to refill your creative well?

Much of the writing process seems to be about putting yourself in a writing state of mind. Several of the entries on this blog cover different ways I lure my writing self to the page: fountain pens, pretty journals, cupcakes, overpriced headphones.

What about a writing uniform?

I’ve bought NaNoWriMo gear to remind me of the superhuman writing feats I have achieved. In fact, I’m so proud of my first-ever NaNoWriMo “victory” that my poor husband may have to accidentally lose my black t-shirt, which is stained and threadbare at this point.

Some people have suggested getting a “writing hat” or scarf or some other token that says “let’s get down to business.” (Chris Baty’s novel-writing kit includes a “Novelist” button that you can pin on your jammies if you like.)

The idea intrigues me. I simply haven’t decided what type of uniform would fit my personality.

Maybe it should depend on the genre in which I’m working:

• A fedora for mystery/thrillers
• A feather boa for romance
• A hockey mask for horror

Do you have a writing uniform? Maybe a lucky shirt or some other token? Any fun, crazy suggestions for my uniform?

Yesterday, after meeting a friend for breakfast, a creative lightning bolt struck me on Sixth Avenue. I was thinking about our conversation, and it triggered an exciting possibility for my novel. This one element could help me tie up several loose ends, propel the story forward and shrink the bloated piece down to a manageable size.

My blood was practically thrumming as I walked to the parking garage. In fact, as soon as I paid the attendant, I whipped out my Field Notes notebook and started jotting down some ideas.

You’d think this was a good thing, right?

With this being the Northeast, I had plenty of time, sitting in traffic, to ponder the creative ramifications. Starting with the fact that the current manuscript doesn’t really support this plot shift. Sure, I can massage elements here and there, but I’d be throwing away most of the work thus far.

That led me to the question of whether I should continue writing this draft to the end. This was my original goal: write a complete draft and then worry about reorganizing and rewriting.

Part of me then worried that I’d be wasting my time, scrawling out more garbage that would never see the light of day. Better to stop following this path to an inevitable dead end. Instead, I should plot the third – and hopefully, final – draft, and start writing while my creative energies are still singing with excitement. (Fortunately, these energies are much, much quieter than my actual singing voice.)

Yet, here I am, more than 24 hours later, and I’m torn between the two options.

In some ways, it’s easier to just sit down and write without a plan, even knowing that much of the output will never see the light of day.

On the other hand, one of my biggest weaknesses as a fiction writer is my failure to finish. (That’s a pretty big one, right up there with pilots who can’t land.)

And then, there’s the issue of how, exactly, I’m going to plot out the next draft. Should I use a handy-dandy guide like Victoria Lynn Schmidt’s Book in a Month? Should I attempt to use Dramatica Pro, which might then prompt me to lose more time by reading up on the software? Or do I grab note cards and pen and start scribbling down notes, rearranging scenes, adding and subtracting characters until I’m reasonably happy with the story line?

Have you ever gotten stuck by the writing process, even when you knew how the writing itself should go? What did/do you do? What do you suggest I do?

The writing life requires a certain amount of self-starting. After all, unless we’re writing for class or a client, who cares whether we finish writing that poem, novel, script, or whatever?

Our friends and loved ones do. Because they care about us. And they know that our writing matters to us – even when we’re not brave enough to sit down at the page.

But they’re not going to stand over us and scream until we bang out the day’s writing quota. They’ll usually offer softer, gentler words of encouragement.

I need the obnoxious drill sergeant.

That’s why I really appreciate my friend Travis, a fellow writer.

Some time ago, Travis and I struck a deal. We each committed to writing a certain number of words per week (we determine our own quota, based on our current situation). If we failed to hold up our end of the bargain, we paid a penalty to the other person: $10 toward an Amazon gift card.

I’ve missed my quota more weeks than I’ve made it. Throughout this process, however, I’ve written more consistently than at any other time in my life. In fact, this past February was a rough month; I hit a wall halfway through. But when I tallied up my productivity for those four weeks, I’d still scribbled 20,000 words on my novel draft.

Much of the credit for that output goes to Travis. Knowing that someone else is out there, pulling for our writing success, can give us the external motivation we need to meet our goals.

Some days the writing goes well; other days it sucks wind. But I’m slowly, slowly making progress, thanks to the support of friends like Travis.

Do you have a writing buddy to keep you on track? Would you like one? Please share your experience, and let’s figure out how to help each other fulfill our creative destinies.

One of my greatest struggles lies in tearing myself away from my practical responsibilities to spend time on my writing. Work and family can eat up every spare second. How can I carve out enough time for my personal passions?

This quest has led me to read a number of books designed to help me manage my time. The latest is Bit Literacy by Mark Hurtz. The book promises to show readers how to increase productivity in the age of information overload. Some of the recommendations are great; others oversimplify things for my tastes. But one of Hurtz’s recommendations completely blew my mind.

I’ve decided to switch from QWERTY touch-typing to the Dvorak method, which offers increased efficiency and reduced risk of repetitive stress injuries.

My husband thinks I’m crazy, partly because I already type 95 words per minute. Why would a sane, high-performing person decide to lose a month or so of productivity for a potential 5 or 10% increase in speed?*

My response: “I don’t plan to die in the next  month. Even a modest productivity improvement would add up quickly.”

So much of my life takes place in front of a computer that I believe I can pick up an hour or two a week by cutting down the time it takes to draft emails and blog posts.

More importantly, making the switch will likely extend my years productivity and reduce my chances of requiring surgery for carpal tunnel syndrome. I’ve felt twinges in my wrists for nearly two decades, dating back to my college years as a medical transcriptionist.

So now, here I am, preparing to reprogram my fingers after 20 years of flying over traditional QWERTY layouts. This experiment will certainly cut into my writing, blogging and running time, but I believe it will pay off in the end.

Of course, I also realize that man – and woman – is not a rational, but a rationalizing, creature, so I ask you: do you think this is a smart move that will ultimately improve my productivity, or does it seem like an overly complex form of procrastination?

Stay tuned, kids, and I’ll let you know how it goes.

*Actually, those estimates are conservative. Some typists have shown improvement of 200%-300%, but they probably weren’t typing 100 wpm when they started.

Writing is a creative process, a form of artistic expression. Granted, some endeavors are more so than others, but you get the picture.

The whole creativity thing sometimes stymies my writing because I feel like brilliant words should flow from my pen in an inspired stream. They don’t.

Just yesterday, in fact, I was telling a fellow writer how painful I find the actual writing process. Remember the quote by sportswriter Red Smith? “Writing is really quite simple; all you have to do is sit down at your typewriter and open a vein.” For me, it’s more like a double amputation at the wrists, which really makes writing a challenge. He looked at me as if I’d opened a Slim Jim at a vegan conference.

No frenzied bouts of all-night typing, brought on by a killer story concept that struck me at ShopRite. Instead, I resort to the same dull, control-freak practices that keep me focused in my day job:

• I schedule writing time.
• I make lists.

It seems counter-intuitive to plan creativity. And, much of my preplanned writing feels forced and sluggish. It’s in the midst of those plodding writing sessions, however, that my muse finally rouses from hibernation and tosses up some creative gem.

With enough discipline and practice, I’m hoping to entice her to wake up a little more often.

Are you one of those writers who need inspiration to create? Or do you discipline yourself to write and trust that creativity will follow? Perhaps a little of both? Please share your experiences. Pretty, pretty please?

I recently registered to run the 2010 New York City Marathon on November 7. My reasons for wanting to run the marathon are complex, and 2010 will be the year, despite the fact that I’ve been deferring my entry for longer than I care to admit.

To help me with my training, I ordered two resources from Amazon: The Non-Runner’s Marathon Trainer and the Marathon & Half-Marathon Training Journal: Log & Diary for Runners. When these books arrived, a startling thing happened: I became excited about finishing my novel.

As mentioned in earlier posts, exercise and writing are closely intertwined in my psyche. This training guide on how to run 26.2 miles without suffering the same fate that supposedly befell the original Marathon runner, Pheidippides, reminded me of the literary marathon I’ve been pursuing for the past six months: specifically, the penning of my latest novel draft.

Some of the writing lessons I’ve learned from both reading (this book, other resources) and doing (writing and running):

• Create your own reality. The old Henry Ford quote is true, “Whether you think that you can, or that you can’t, you’re usually right.” If you see yourself sitting down day after day (or night after night) and setting pen to paper or fingers to keyboard, cheerfully churning out words, you’ll have a better writing experience than someone who envisions the process with fear and dread. Writing – and the stories we tell ourselves about the writing process – can be scary. But we choose whether to make our art a joy or a burden. (If you like being a tortured artist, then please proceed.)
• Focus on the positive. Developing a positive mental attitude is key to overcoming our innate resistance. Whether you’re too tired to run or write, whatever your excuse may be, tell yourself “… but it doesn’t matter” and do it anyway. Maybe you’re stressing about some boneheaded move your protagonist made during your last session. Remind yourself “it doesn’t matter” and fix the situation in the next draft. You’ll feel much better for continuing the forward momentum.
• Knock down that wall. Most people who have contemplated running a marathon hear about “the wall,” that point around mile 18 or 20 when you think you can’t possibly go any further. I’ve hit that point at the 100,000-word mark in my novel, as I lament the number of undeveloped plot lines and wonder how my heroine and her love interest will ever get together in the next 15,000 words. Here’s where the first two lessons come into play: If you focus on the positive and keep the end goal in sight, you’ll finish. So I’m going to head downstairs and get to writing.

Have you ever tackled a lengthy writing project and lost momentum along the way? How did you get yourself back on track? If it’s still sitting on your computer or in a notebook, forgotten, what would it take to get you moving forward again?