Tia DeShong
What does your writing routine look like?
What writer hasn’t fantasized of limitless time to practice her craft? Between balancing 9-to-5 workweeks, family life, and the rigors of contemporary existence, it seems something is always pulling us away from our writing desks, no matter how longingly we lurch towards our keyboards. In trying to balance it all, we worry that all-too-often it is our writing that is the first to get cut from our daily routines when time is tight. It is this worry that propels us towards drastic measures: writers’ retreats. MFA programs. Walden Pond. Yet now, as most of us face an uncertain stretch of time confined to our houses in an effort to slow the spread of COVID19, some of us may still find ourselves spending less time writing than we would like. Now doesn’t seem like the right time, we reason, as we try to adjust to a new way of living. I’ll get to it after my Zoom meeting with my son’s teacher, we promise ourselves to no avail. But perhaps it is now, in the midst of an unprecedented global pandemic, that writing routines are more important than ever.
Writing routines are essential for dedicated writers, even in times of great upheaval.
Even for writers who write more for themselves than to have their words read by the masses, a writing routine is essential. This is because even the most dedicated of us can find ourselves lost in the shuffle of daily life — paying our bills, going to work, walking the dog, or binging the latest show on Netflix. Writing routines help us to prioritize our craft in the same way we prioritize our exercise regimen or household chores. If writing is something we value more than cleaning a toilet, then a routine is vital. What’s more, writing routines help us to develop our writing process and the work we create. With the help of a routine, writers are better able to set goals, measure progress, and track results. It’s not enough to allow inspiration to dictate when you write; we all know how fickle a friend it can be, particularly when we are stressed by other things (like, you know, global pandemics). Instead, those serious about writing must make a conscious effort to write as often as they can.
It has been said time and time again — having an effective writing routine is about making time, not finding time. When the world felt more normal, this may have meant skipping your afternoon yoga class so that you had time to sit down in the quiet of the evening and put pen to paper. With a pandemic upon us, we are in the paradoxical situation where many of us have much more time to work at our own pace, but much less emotional incentive to do so, whether that is because we are constantly refreshing our New York Times newsfeed for pandemic updates (guilty) or because the anxiety of the situation has us seeking easy comforts like Tiger King and Doritos (also guilty). Whatever the situation, all writers need a degree of motivation to write, pandemic or not. A writing routine is a great way to give your day structure and to stay motivated, even when the days seem harder to get through.
You’ve probably never been more inspired.
While it is normal for people to experience emotional numbness in the face of tragedy, it’s equally true that the unprecedented time that we are living in is full of inspiration for creators. Writing has always been a way for the writer to make sense of what is happening in the world around them — to organize her thoughts, rally like minds, and create a sense of community right on the page. We’ve seen this play out on a national stage as well as in our own humble neck of the woods, where writers of The Writer’s Block Party from all genres and backgrounds have grappled with the COVID19 pandemic in their work. Some have written quick snippets of verse — poetry that grapples with the mundane in the face of the extraordinary. Others have opted for longer essays detailing how we got to this point, what went wrong, where we go from here. Others still have focused on small vignettes from the pandemic — moments that have resonated in ways both galvanizing and bleak. Nurses with mask-scarred faces. Refrigerated morgue trucks parked in long rows on the streets of Manhattan. Food deliveries to vulnerable individuals. So. Many. Nasal swabs.
Write for posterity. Write to remember. Write to try to make it make sense. Write because you want to think about something else. But be sure to write it all down. As Alissa Wilkinson put is so eloquently in a recent summary of pandemic writing for Vox, you may just be “writing the first draft of history.”
Writing is the ultimate form of self-care.
We have heard for years that the act of writing is cathartic. Psychologists regularly recommend that their clients keep journals to write through their feelings; writing, both creative and personal, is also routinely utilized in art therapies. We also know that in the age of the coronavirus pandemic, “self-care” becomes more than just a trendy buzzword, it is key to our physical and emotional well-being. Not only can writing offer a positive distraction from the banalities of life in lockdown (beans again? yum!), it can help us to cope with the situation before us, either by allowing us respite from consuming the bad news or a way to process it all in a healthy manner.
Further, in an age when we are encouraged to stay home, to stay six feet away from each other, to wear a mask that covers most of our emoting face, writing can make us feel less alone. We can share our words — and in the process our hopes and anxieties — with others. We can channel the existential dread into depictions of beauty; we can transform our sense of helplessness into action. Whether we need our writing to be a balm or a sword — or sometimes both — we are capable of using the routine practice of our craft to exercise both self and community care.
We will get through this.
While most of the world is currently under some form a lockdown, it is important to acknowledge that not all of us have the privilege of staying home and staying safe. Essential workers, frontline medical staff, those without secure housing, and countless others continue to go about their lives while the rest of us hunker down. For them, your expendable time is an unimaginable luxury. Don’t squander it. Do something meaningful.
It is true that we don’t get to choose the times in which we are born, but we do get to chose what we make of the moments given to us. Yes, writing will be different right now. Living is different right now. And although my writing process has always included the promise of an existential anxiety spiral, the imminence of the threat means much has changed. But we can work with the skills we already have and the writing routines we have developed to navigate this new way of living and creating. And if we can come out the other side with our best habits still in place (and maybe a few publishable pieces), we will be all the better for it.
