by Jenna | Apr 16, 2015 | Writing Articles
When someone joins my writing community, and doesn’t participate, I am always fascinated to know why. I don’t assume that the person is lazy or just not writing. And sometimes there are real reasons, like a sudden death in the family or an unexpected deadline at work.
But more often than not, when someone isn’t writing, it’s resistance. Resistance means avoiding the very thing you know you most want to do. In fact, the bigger the calling, the more resistance.
And if you’re the one in resistance, it can be tricky to spot. The stories we tell ourselves become so familiar, we take them as givens.
Garden variety resistance
Stories like “being too busy”, for instance, are common. It’s our best socially acceptable excuse, after all! These are the more obvious cases, where the writer says they want to write, but fails to do so, saying they are too busy.
It’s resistance, plain and simple.
Sure. It might ALSO be true that they are too busy. But WHY are they too busy? What self-created realities are they living in that make them too busy to write?
Resistance leads us to create overflowing lives with impossible tasks and deadlines, because if we CAN’T write, we don’t have to write. Saved!
We always have a choice
The thing is, though, we make the choices that create our lives.
Sure, we might have to hold down day jobs. But we don’t have to be perfectionists about Every Single Bit of work that we do, or work Every Single Available Hour to successfully accomplish our jobs. Perfectionism keeps us working on other projects far longer than necessary. Being busy in this way is the ultimate form of procrastination.
The reality is that it is almost always possible to write for just a few minutes a day, no matter how busy you are. Usually if you can’t find a few minutes, it’s because you’re allowing perfectionism and resistance to get in the way, one way or the other. Even taking on too much work is a form of perfectionism, because when we can’t write, we don’t have to, and we don’t have to see ourselves fail to reach our own impossibly high standards.
Insidious types of resistance
The more insidious types of resistance are new projects that suddenly demand our attention, like just when we’ve finally committed to writing a novel, we decide we have to start a thirty-day workout program, get another degree, start a new business, clear our clutter, move, or fix our finances.
Why do we do this?
On the surface, it might look like we’re mastering self-improvement in all areas of our lives, all at once. It feels so good to finally be committing to writing that we overcommit to trying to improve everything in our lives. Or it might look like we’ve gotten clear that these other projects are more important to do first.
It looks noble. Or smart, to get your priorities in order.
But underneath, it’s self-sabotage.
What we’re really doing is simply avoiding the writing. We might not be willing or able to admit it to ourselves at the time, but raw naked terror is running the show. Better to build one habit or make one major change at a time, ideally in small manageable pieces.
There’s nothing like signing up for something like the writing community or committing to doing the work, and then seeing yourself run fleeing in the other direction (or just plain old losing interest) to clue you in to the fact that you are secretly TERRIFIED of facing the page.
Not that there’s anything wrong with being scared.
In fact, it’s ENTIRELY normal. If you aren’t scared, you might even be doing it wrong.
You might be surprised about what I really think when you aren’t writing
But here’s the thing. If you tell me you want to write and the instantly do the opposite, you might be surprised (or not, if you know me at all!) to know that I DON’T think:
- He’s being lazy.
- She isn’t serious about being a writer.
- He doesn’t have what it takes.
Far from it.
In fact, what goes through my brain is:
- Oh, poor thing, she must be terrified.
- I wonder if he knows he’s running away.
- I hope she will reach out for help instead of hiding.
- I wonder if he knows how defended he is right now.
- I wonder what she’s doing instead of writing and how I can help her troubleshoot it.
What I really see hidden in the way writers act out after they’ve committed to writing but don't do it – is a cry for help.
The bigger the badder
And the larger the way the resistance plays out, the more terror I see:
- Taking on new responsibilities at work or for the kids' schools? Scared.
- Going out drinking every night instead of writing? Panicky.
- Suddenly deciding to start a new business venture or get a fine arts degree? Petrified.
All these kinds of choices – whether they are sudden new choices or chronic patterns – they are resistance, and show us how scared we truly are.
Is this grounds for self-flagellation?
No.
Far from it.
It’s powerful information.
When you know you are not lazy or weak willed but scared, then you know how to deal with it.
The antidote for fear
The antidote for fear is courage.
But it’s also about having a super simple plan to bypass the fear and get into action with the smallest possible steps to get you writing.
So when I see you not writing, my first response is compassion, followed by tons of support and brainstorming to help you get going again. It’s as simple as that.
by Jenna | Apr 6, 2015 | Writing Articles
My best friend reminded me the other day that I have chosen an artist’s career. Her words hit me over the head like a metal bucket, with all the accompanying reverberations one might expect.
Wait.
I did?
An artist’s career?
But she’s right. By choosing to become a writer, I chose an artist’s lifestyle.
Sure, yeah, I’m an entrepreneur too, and a coach. In some senses I’m well-diversified. But in the sense we were talking about, it was hardly different. They are unpredictable jobs. The money goes up and down. You don’t know how you’ll be rewarded for any given effort. There’s not an hours for dollars exchange going on, at least not in the predictable way someone with a 40-hours-a-week-plus-benefits job would have.
And honestly? I wouldn’t give it up. I adore working for myself. When people talk about how they can only take so many vacation days a year so they can’t take an extra day off to have a three day weekend, I just look at them with cow eyes. What now?
On the other hand, in some ways I am never off work. Not one day, not ever. Because it’s mine. But it’s also MINE, you dig?
But I digress.
Chuck Wendig wrote this post recently about making the decision to quit writing (or not). He suggested picturing your life five years from now, not writing, and noticing how you feel. Relieved? Maybe that’s a sign to quit. Disappointed? Maybe you should keep going.
But I don’t know.
Maybe I’m deformed or deficient in some way but along with the massive joy I often feel for my writing and the daily deep satisfaction I get from doing it, I also feel burdened by it. Like it's something I’ve picked up and can never put down again. And sometimes that makes me feel tired, like I want a break. So when I think of not writing in five years, yeah, there’s a part of me that feels relieved. Like I’d be off this self-created hook. But is that so bad? Is that a sign I don’t want it enough? I don’t think so.
Because my real answer to whether or not I would quit writing is “No way, not ever.”
It reminds me a bit of parenting.
Both are “terrible privileges” in a sense. Neither would I give up, not for anything. But they will never ever ever go away. I cannot escape them. Nor do I want to. But some part of me still sometimes longs for those earlier carefree days when I didn’t know what it would be like to have parts of my soul walking around in other small bodies that I made inside my own. Or those days when I could truly be free to do nothing or anything without the need to take care of another being or to put words to the page because if I don’t I start to feel itchy and claustrophobic all at once.
It’s a burden. A privilege. A recipe for angst and joy, all rolled into one.
Do I love it every minute?
No.
Would I give it up?
Absolutely not.
Because in writing I found myself.
And quitting would be giving up on part of me that would lose her home.
by Jenna | Mar 26, 2015 | Writing Articles
In this über-distractified world we live in, minding our own business is becoming increasingly important.
I’ve been paying a lot of attention to the way I start my day in this regard.
Whose day is it, anyway?
If I get up and instantly tune in to what other people are doing, by turning on my phone and checking for email, texts, Skype messages, Facebook messages, app notifications and/or my Facebook news feed, timeline or notifications, my day starts off focused on other people’s business. (And, wow, when I put it all in a list like that it’s downright overwhelming. No wonder my brain feels cluttered.)
If I start my day this way, I spend the next 60 to 70 minutes — time when I want to be focused on my kids, getting my older boy to school and my baby boy settled for his nap — feeling distracted.
Things like this start twirling through my brain, even when I tell myself I’m just going to take a quick look at email to make sure nothing critical is happening that I need to take care of:
- Sorting through all the details, step-by-step, for how to solve the latest technical problem du jour with my website upgrades.
- Mentally composing replies to emails I've seen come in from clients, colleagues, and co-workers.
- Tracking all the email reminders for the various school events and doctors appointments I just saw in my inbox.
- Wondering about the cool article I saw from one of my favorite writers and when I'll get to finish reading it.
- Mulling over my thoughts and replies to various conversations and intellectual ideas my friends and colleagues post about.
Getting hooked
The thing is, my brain LOVES problem-solving and answering questions. It’s truly one of my strengths. In fact, I get a little bored when I don’t have a problem to solve and sometimes create problems so that I have something to work on (I like to call them projects to make it sound better. :) ).
But it’s hard to shut my brain off. ANY problem will set it on overdrive, working to solve it, even if it’s not one that is particularly meaningful or important to me. (Even inane random things I see, like “The top 20 songs from the 80s your kids should know the lyrics to!” sets my brain to wondering… “Wow, what songs are they? Do I know those songs? Is it really important that my kids know those songs? Do I even like those songs?” Make it stop!)
And when I’m walking to school with a sweet seven-year-old boy who wants to tell me all about the monsters he’s coming up with for his latest comic book, I don’t want my brain in distracted-mode or even problem-solving mode, I want it in listening mode.
And when I get back to the house with the baby to nurse and settle for his nap, I want to focus on his angelic, beautiful face shining up at me. I don’t want to be distracted by the noise of other people’s business.
And when I get to my desk, once he’s asleep and I’m ready to write, I don’t want my brain cluttered with obligations and distractions that other people’s desires and requests — even their PRESENCE — creates for me. I want my brain in creative problem solving mode for MY work.
I want to be minding my own business.
But what about staying in touch?
All this said, I DO want to stay in touch with my friends and community. As an introverted, highly sensitive writer who works from home and has a child under age one, it’s lovely to have so many ways to keep in touch with what the people I genuinely care about are doing. And this includes all the neat writers I’m getting to know online and the people I work with through my Called to Write community and coaching work.
Which is ALSO part of minding my business, literally.
So.
Obviously some of this is me working on my own ability to be present, calm, centered, and focused though things like exercise, mindfulness, etc.
But it’s also about the addictive nature of social media and the ever-present drive to consume information that so many of us are wrestling with right now.
I was fascinated that right after our newest son was born, I could not handle much input. I couldn’t talk on the phone for at least eight weeks after his birth — it was just too overstimulating. I also could not bear to have all the many pop-up notifications on my phone that I’d grown accustomed to over the years prior.
Think about WHY we’re doing it
I reached out to one of my go-to coaches for this, Jessica Michaelson, and asked for her input. She suggested I give some thought to what it provides for me personally, so that I could think of other ways to get those needs met. She said it often serves as a way for people to avoid uncomfortable feelings and to create short term positive feelings.
I definitely find myself reaching for my phone when I’m bored and looking for a “hit” of something “fun”. I also like seeing what other people are doing — but again, that pulls me out of my own world and into theirs (something not so great for an empathic person). I also get into trouble when I’m waiting for a response to something I've sent, like an email (this is particularly true when it's about something I’m nervous about or has an emotional charge for me).
It’s not even so much that I get distracted by social media when I’ve planned to write; I’m fairly solid on writing when I say I’m going to write. It’s that it is taking up too much space in my brain. I want to feel clearer headed for myself and for my kids.
So I have been cutting back, and I feel so much calmer. I’m also thinking of going back to one technology free day per week, though I’ll have to negotiate that with my son since we’ve now limited his screen time to weekends only and those are my easiest days to unplug. :)
And here’s the thing. I actually love all the technology. As much as it can be overwhelming, I’m enough of a gadget geek to really enjoy using these tools. I just want to make sure I’m using them effectively and enjoying of the experience, rather than having them whittle away at my time and psyche.
Systematically eradicating the systems
Here’s what I’ve done on a technical front to help myself deal with all this:
-
Turned off all notifications on my phone except text alerts.
-
Turned off almost all badges on apps (those ones that show the little red numbers telling you there’s a message to lure you into looking at them).
-
Keep my phone in silent mode except when I’m expecting an important phone call or text. This is most of the time. I also avoid giving my phone numbers out as much as possible, except to close friends and co-workers.
-
Keep my phone face down while I’m writing so if anything does pop up I’m not distracted by it.
-
Deleted games from my iPad and iPhone that I have gotten obsessive about playing with (don’t even get me started talking about the games that my older son and I call “working games” — those are such a huge temptation to a problem-solver like me!).
-
Deleted the Facebook app on my phone, while keeping Facebook messenger.
-
Turned off banner and badge notifications on my Mac and set the notification center to “do not disturb”.
-
Installed the News Feed Eradicator extension for Chrome on my Mac. Now what I see when I go on Facebook is a lovely quote reminding me to be strong or focus on what’s most important to me.
-
I use Haze Over or Composition Mode in Scrivener to black out my screen so I’m only seeing what I’m supposed to be working on. (I’m liking Scrivener’s Composition Mode even better than Isolator since it blacks out EVERYTHING other than my writing.)
Replacing the habit with something positive
In addition to all the deleting I'm doing, I’ve made sure to have options on my iPhone and iPad that are interesting and meaningful to me, like reading books in my Kindle app or in Weekend Read (for Scripts and PDFs), or using Byword to write. (All of these have a "dark mode" that works great for reading or writing next to a sleep baby at night!)
I'm subscribed to the blogs and people I want to be reading — so I don't have to find them online.
I make a point to engage with people online in ways that are fulfilling.
These is perhaps the most important piece of the puzzle for me, because they are my replacements for the bad habits.
Now, when I find myself looking for that quick hit of “something interesting”, I ask myself what I’m REALLY looking for, and think about other ways to get it for myself.
In other words, I’m minding my own business.
by Jenna | Feb 20, 2015 | Writing Articles
It's been a rough couple of months. My mother-in-law passed away at the end of January. I've managed to have two colds since then (yes, I know it's only February 20th), and the second one has been a doozy. I wrote through the first cold. I wrote through her passing. It felt good to write. It became my solace, my place to turn to myself and remember who I am, even in the face of grief and exhaustion. I even finished the rough draft of a new spec script in the midst of all this. But by the second cold (all whilst taking care of a now 9 month old baby), I was pretty fried and quite simply too sick to do much more than a very low rock bottom minimum.
As I've navigated the last 10 days in particular, I've found myself focusing on getting well and doing some minimal amounts of tinkering and research to stay in touch with various projects. And now that I'm emerging (finally!) from this Cold From Hell, I'm facing the need to reboot my own writing habit a bit. I'll make a point to write about that next week. In the meantime, I thought you might enjoy this article (revised and reprinted from 2013) about making the choice about whether or not to write when you're sick, have hit a rough patch in your life, have shaken confidence, are experiencing a loss or grief, or perhaps are suffering from a depleted creative well.
Enjoy!
During a live coaching call for my online writer's community, one of our participants asked about how to know when to push through and write if you're not feeling well, and how to know when to focus on regaining your well-being.
In my opinion, the answer depends a bit on the circumstances, so let's look at some specific scenarios.
1. You've just come down with a wicked cold or flu.
Assuming you have a solid, regular habit in place, when you get really sick or you're just those early stages of wretchedness, I think it's okay to take a few days off from writing, knowing that you'll get back to it as quickly as you can.
When I'm feverish, wiped out, or worse, I know the most important thing I can do for my body is to rest and heal.
I have found myself writing even while sick at times -- because I felt truly drawn to work on my piece and it was nagging at me not to -- but my focus is on listening to my body.
This is very much like being an athlete, and knowing whether or if to train when you're sick or injured, and when to take a day off.
I also trust myself enough deep down, after months of regular writing, to know that I'll re-establish my habit as soon as I am able, usually within 2 to 3 days. The longer you're away from your habit, the harder it is to get going again, so it will behoove you to pay attention to writing again as soon as possible, starting out small, even just 15 minutes a day, and building back up to your full pre-illness writing glory over a few days time.
2. You're going through a rough patch in your life, you're generally tired or run down, maybe you're not sleeping very well, or maybe you're mildly sick.
On the other hand, if the chips are down and you're having a rough time in your life, maybe you aren't sleeping well, or maybe you're getting better from that wicked cold or flu, I'm inclined to recommend that you simply scale back your writing time to get through it. I've been through many challenging personal experiences over the last several years as a writer, and I find that it's much easier to keep writing at a rock bottom minimum level than it is to stop writing altogether (this is because it gets harder and harder to restart, the longer the not-writing goes on, as I mentioned above).
As a writer, it's worth knowing what your minimal level of writing is -- how much will keep you engaged and connected to the work? For me, it's 15 minutes a day -- that's my rock bottom. For someone else, it might be 5 minutes or 60 minutes. The point is, know what YOU need to do to sustain your connection to the work even during a challenging phase.
Along with aiming for your minimum, when you're going through a phase like this, make sure you increase your levels of self-care. Put sleep, healthy food, good hydration, fresh air, and exercise at the top of your list and get yourself back into balance. It'll benefit your writing in the long term.
3. You're in a bad mood or someone said something terrible to you and your confidence is shaken.
A common refrain among writers is, "I'm not in the right mood to write." This can come up for all sorts of reasons, like having a bad night's sleep or a bad day at work. It can also be a bit sneaky, and turn up when you've lost confidence because of something someone said about your writing or if you've been hooked by the Comparison Monster ("Everyone else is doing better at this than I am!").
And what happens is that we start feeling like we need to take time off to rest or to get ourselves feeling better before we write.
But hear this now: Being in a bad mood is NOT a good reason not to write.
There are far too many reasons to resist and procrastinate about writing already, we simply cannot allow our moods to be added to that list.
You may even be surprised to find that when you write on a daily or near-daily basis, your level of productivity and your ability to create are not at all related to your mood. Oftentimes writers find that their best writing and most productive days occur when they did not want to write. And besides, writing will often change your mood for the better anyway.
4. You're going through a painful period of loss, grief, or "personal anguish".
At another end of the spectrum is experiencing an extreme loss -- like a death of a loved one. When my grandmother died in 2012, I felt as though I was in another world -- nearer to the veil between life and death -- and I found it difficult to write fiction in yet an entirely different world. So I choose to take a few days off from "real" writing, though I did do a tiny bit of tinkering with my script one day.
On the other hand, Steven Pressfield recommends writing even during times of "personal anguish" in his excellent post of the same title:
"I’m not saying pain is good. I’m not advocating screwing up our lives for the sake of art. I’m just making the observation that our genius is not us. It can’t be hurt like we can. Its heart can’t be broken. It’s going to send the next trolley down the track whether we like it or not."
My experience is that those few brief days of being between worlds while in grief are the only spans of time in which I have felt truly unable to write, and then, just as I've said above, I still get back to writing as quickly as possible. I also believe it's perfectly appropriate -- important even -- to allow ourselves time to grieve and be with whatever emotions are coming up. When my mother-in-law died recently, writing was my solace, as I mentioned. I also found great comfort in being involved with the writing of her obituary and the letter to our extended family.
5. You need to refill your creative well.
All this said, I AM a firm believer in taking big "put my feet up" days off. I love to pick out a day on my calendar when I can feel the need building up, that I block off "just for me." In my pre-baby days, I would take my older son to school, and then do whatever I felt like doing, usually some combination of a buying a fantastic decaf beverage, watching a movie in bed, taking a nap, and maybe going out for a meal at a favorite restaurant. Now, with a little baby in the house, my days off are even a little more home-centric, but still involve similar indulgences (a movie while he naps, something yummy delivered for lunch, and a long bath.)
On these days, I fully, completely enjoy my not-writing time, and I know I'm replenishing and rebuilding to dive back in the next day.
by Jenna | Feb 6, 2015 | Writing Articles
Today I'm reprinting a revised version of a favorite article that appeared on the blog in January 2012. It's just as relevant today as it was then. Enjoy!
One of the most common excuses I hear from people who say they want to write but aren't doing it is that they don't have enough time.
If you're attached to that excuse, you might not want to keep reading. :)
I see frequent articles on the web about "how to find time to write" -- and I've even written one of them myself for my ebook (it's good -- you can check it out here). But despite the plethora of advice out there about how to find the time, many aspiring writers are still not getting their butts in their seats and their fingers on the keys. And I know it's NOT because they haven't read the right "find the time" article yet.
So what's happening instead?
What you're telling yourself instead of writing
If you're wanting to write, but not doing it, you're probably telling yourself something along these lines:
I'm too busy -- I have too much on my plate already.
Even though I really want to, I just don't have enough time to write.
I have to have a big block of time to write, and that's impossible given my schedule.
I'm already exhausted, I can't add one more thing.
You might even be telling yourself you have more important things to do. You've got an endless to-do list, right? And obligations and commitments that are Really Important.
You might be waiting for a whole day off or a Big Block of Writing Time where you can finally sit down and focus on your writing, but when that time comes, you remember that the laundry really needs to get done or that you promised Jane you'd go with her to that party and you don't have anything to wear so you have to go shopping and while you're out you remember that you forgot to... Well, you get the picture.
You might also be thinking you need to get farther along in your career and save some money (or get the right writing room or the right computer) before you can devote yourself to your writing career.
But none of these are the real reasons you aren't writing.
Let me tell you what is true
The real reason you are not writing is because you are scared.
You are scared that you don't know how to write, or what to write about.
You are scared that your writing won't be good enough, original enough, or that maybe someone else has already said it better.
You are afraid that your new book concept isn't going to hold up or that you'll lose interest part way through.
You are scared to do the hard work of writing, and overwhelmed by the thought of such a big project.
You aren't sure where to start or what to write about.
You are afraid to do a new kind of writing or venture into new territory, that you won't be able to do it justice.
You're scared you might hurt people if you write your truth. Or disappoint them.
This thing about time is just a story
You can go on telling yourself the story that you don't have time to write if you want to, but we both know it isn't true.
If writing means as much to you as you say it does, you must learn to overcome your fear so you can make it happen.
Stop looking for TIME and start looking for COURAGE.
You can do it. I believe in you.
by Jenna | Jan 22, 2015 | Writing Articles
When it comes to rewarding ourselves for writing, I see many writers being stingy about it.
Please don't be stingy!
In my writing community we have a question on our daily progress report that says, "How will you acknowledge or celebrate what you’ve accomplished today?" And every day we fill our answers into this little box:
We do this to bring attention to the importance of the practice of rewarding ourselves for writing.
But what fascinates me is how often we collectively avoid or sidestep this question.
Even I find often myself answering with something that I was already planning to do, which isn't exactly a true reward. Sure, it's a nice thing I'm doing for myself at the end of the day, but it isn't actually tied to the writing. (On the other hand, as a still relatively sleep deprived new mom, when I write "Go to bed" in that little box, I'm usually THRILLED to be making that my reward, and it really does feel like one.)
But are we doing ourselves any favors by avoiding rewarding ourselves for writing or not creating special rewards just for the writing?
I don't think so.
Why we might not reward ourselves for writing
Here are some reasons why we might not reward -- or want to reward -- ourselves for writing.
1. Not rewarding ourselves can be a form of self-punishment.
Some writers feel that they "don't deserve" a reward because they haven't reached their goal for the day, even if they did actually show up and write.
Or sometimes writers are writing but feel they aren't working on the "right" project, so they punish themselves by not rewarding, acknowledging, or celebrating the writing they did do.
Some writers use the lack of a reward as a way of being hard on themselves.
Here's why this is a bad idea: Self-punishment (of any kind) sets up a negative association with our writing. When we are constantly hard on ourselves for not writing enough, writing the right thing, or not meeting our (sometimes unrealistic!) goals, we create disincentives associated with our writing. Rewards, on the other hand, create incentives to write. And considering that showing up to write and sticking with it can be a herculean task on many, many days, disincentives are the last things we need.
2. It feels hard to think of something to reward yourself with.
Sometimes it's just hard to come up with something as a reward, so it's easy to phone it in by picking something you were already planning to do or giving up.
On the other hand, if that something you were already planning to do is what you would normally be procrastinating with (TV, Facebook, games, etc), that's not such a bad idea. Sometimes a little delayed gratification IS a great reward. But it's not a great choice if you aren't intentional about it, meaning that you decide BEFORE you write that your treat at the end will be a little Facebook surfing time.
What worries me about not coming up with rewards: I suspect that an inability to come up with an idea for a reward is tied to that feeling that we don't deserve one. I also think it devalues the act of writing. While some might say that we shouldn't need rewards for doing what we were put here to do, I disagree. Our big dreams -- as much as we WANT them -- are often shunted to the side for other less meaningful pastimes and obligations. So when we actually do the work of overcoming the massive amounts of inertia and resistance to actually write, it's worth rewarding.
3. Rewarding feels like another thing to do.
When we are busy -- in writing and in life -- creating space for a reward for ourselves can feel like just one more thing on a very long list of To Do's. Who wants to do that? It might even feel like an interruption of one's flow in the day or in life to stop and acknowledge or celebrate what we've accomplished.
I know writers who are so frantic to keep up with even their own self-imposed deadlines that they cannot imagine stopping to celebrate what they've done.
Here's why we might want to rethink this: Positive experiences create positive associations with writing, much as rewards can be incentives. Plus, I don't know about you, but there is always more work to do, and a dearth of pleasurable moments. Why not make the effort to create more moments of delight in our lives, and why not associate them with our writing?
4. It feels like we never accomplish enough to celebrate or reward anything.
Writers always have more writing to do. The next project, the next deadline, the next ambition. When you have an endless laundry list of writing and tasks and To Do's, it feels like you have never ever done enough. And why would you reward yourself for being so behind?
But here's the hidden cost of never being satisfied with what you done: Writing without rewards will suck the life and joy out of your writing eventually. You might be able to keep pushing through for months, years even. But your creative outputs deserve to be balanced with delicious inputs. Your hard work deserves acknowledgement. Don't let a day go by without celebrating the fact that you are making your dream happen, word by word. (And definitely do NOT miss celebrating the big milestones either. Finish a draft? Give yourself something really special, even if it's just a day off to enjoy the sunshine.)
5. Writing feels like its own reward.
Often writers feel like writing is its own reward. And sometimes it really is. Sometimes at the end of a long day, writing is what we do to relax and reward ourselves for working our day jobs or taking care of the kids. So it can feel silly or extraneous to reward yourself for writing when it already feels like a treat.
Here's the issue I see with this: When we write as the reward, it can make it harder to do the writing on days when we "don't feel like it" or we are "too tired". Having a separate reward makes it easier to show up and do the writing no matter what, because we don't want to tie our writing to a being "in the right mood".
Change your anti-reward habit with these strategies
Here are some thoughts about how you can change up your pattern with rewards.
First, have a chat with yourself about what you are actually accomplishing and whether it is worth of a reward. If you stop to think about it, aren't you overcoming resistance every day to write? Wading through distractions, procrastination, fears, and doubts just to show up to the page? Isn't that worthy of acknowledgment?
Then, be intentional with your writing rewards. You might tie them directly to your writing, like giving yourself treats that are writing related (a writing book, a special pen, a class), or looking for ways you can be self-nourishing and creative-well filling. One of my community coaches, Terri Fedonczak, choses rewards that are related to one of the five senses, like having tea under a cozy blanket, sitting outside near the water or in the sunshine, taking a few minutes to snuggle her dogs, or burning incense in her writing corner.
If you want to be an über-rewarder, pre-select your reward before you even begin writing for the day, or plan the reward the evening before along with your writing for the next day. Sometimes our yesterday selves are kinder and wiser than our today selves. You can pre-select rewards for your daily writing and rewards for hitting your writing milestones, like your meeting your weekly goals and completing major drafts. You might even want to make a list of your favorite treats NOW and have it to pick from when you sit down to write.
(Check out this article for more on rewards, and also a li of reward ideas.)
Last, make an effort to reward yourself as quickly as possible when you complete your writing, even within a few minutes of finishing. As my (former) favorite writer, Joss Whedon, says, "I have a reward system. I am the monkey with the pellet and it’s so bad that I write almost everything in restaurants or cafés [so] that when I have an idea, I go and get chocolate." The interviewer from the article says, "He doesn’t wait to flesh out the idea and then reward himself, he rewards himself simply for having the idea." How's THAT for an über-rewarder?
You may also be interested in:
