Untitled Document
Untitled Document

 

Untitled Document

 

 

Finding time to write

I can’t speak for other people, but I sometimes feel that times when there is so much going on I can start to feel guilty about the time I spend writing, the dishes are mounting up in the sink, the phone keeps ringing, and there are those letters to write to the phone company, etc. At times like this it starts to feel difficult for me to justify time spent writing, after all no one is going to come home and appreciate that sonnet you’ve slaved over when the dust bunnies have actually grown teeth and are threatening to take over the living room. Sometimes writing can feel self indulgent, selfish even, and it is easier to put it to one side in an attempt to keep other balls in the air. I envy real writers (and that’s how I think of them), who are at a stage in their lives where their writing is paying off, not just personally but in an actual acknowledgment, publication and even (dare we hope for this?) actual cheques they can pay in the bank. The reason I hold such writers in high regard is not only because of the quality of their writing, but because they seem to be in a position of having a life that facilitates writing. Ok, being in a position of being paid for work helps, but it is more than this. When there are so many important things that all have to be done everyday it becomes possible to justify the precious time you are taking away from other people, other things, in order to write when you have publications, people who like your work , as evidence that this really is work, and it is worth your time doing it.

Unfortunately, there will always be those in life who think with a head full of figures and examine the value of any activity by its financial reward, but being paid for work you love (remember they don’t have to know how much or little) will even hold their tongues. But there are so many writers who aren’t in this position, and it is during this time when we need to remind ourselves to write and not listen to all those practical reasons not to. If we are lucky we have supportive family and friends, and it is easier to let ourselves write with their permission. But personally I’ve found people like this to be thin on the ground. There are many of us who have some people in our lives who don’t really get the writing thing, maybe they don’t express their hostility overtly but in the odd little comment or attitude we can glimpse that gets up our nose.
You know the sort of thing, your friend will ring while you are writing and ask what you are up to, when you tell them you are busy writing they will then say, oh that’s ok then, since you aren’t busy I’ll pop round. Even the most confident writer may find it becomes really hard to prioritise our work when it seems we are the only people who see it as work. There are people who may think writing is a nice little hobby, but only when there aren’t better things for you to spend your time on. I have a friend who was once discussing someone they knew who had had a piece of work published (this was someone they didn’t get on with at work), who said “so what? Anyone can get published, I could do it if I wanted.” It’s the sort of off handed comment that really can discourage you, when you feel writing is work, and have found that getting published is difficult, and takes time. What I should have said was thanks a lot, but I said nothing. The reason for this is some sort of quiet way we write, at first furtively, because when we have said we are writing there will be people who ask if you have been published and if the answer is no, their attitude is that you aren’t a real writer. Question is, how do they think things get published, without being written first?

It becomes difficult to continue writing with people like this, especially when we aren’t earning any money from it, and don’t have any evidence to show them that we aren’t deluded about our work. I admire people who can always devote time to their writing and don’t listen to those external voices, and also the internal critic who is saying all along- what if they are right, what if it’s all rubbish and I’m wasting my time? To be a writer I think when you are starting out you have to be extremely confident with faith in your work, or a little bit stubborn (I am the latter.) There have been many times when I haven’t written because those attitudes of people, and lack of faith in myself have taken over, and I have felt unable to justify myself and this silly writing notion.

I deal with such people by unplugging the phone sometimes, times when I just have some writing to get on with and really want to get it done. I know a lot of people who don’t seem to be able to do this, they feel it is rude and just can’t manage it. My attitude towards this is that with mobile phones, emails, and our home landlines it seems that increasingly there is never time which is your own. In the past people accepted that if you were socialising, relaxing or working they would not be able to get in touch with you. This has changed, there are no such private spaces for ourselves with the invention of mobile phones, which I feel means we must create them for ourselves. What it is really so bad with someone having to phone you back at a more convenient time? The majority of phone calls aren’t those urgent ones that keep us hostage to the phone (just in case). If you are going to unplug the phone at times to write do yourself a favour and be honest about it, when they get hold of you and ask were you are, simply state you unplugged the phone for two hours in order to work on something that was important to you, people don’t like it first (after all they are used to this world were we are always available) but they will get used to it, and eventually get the message that writing is something that you see as work (even if they don’t.)

So how do we keep writing?

It is times when you feel inundated with reasons not to write that you need to do something positive to make you feel your writing is worth the effort. I have had to send work out, or just do something with some work in order to get a little bit of positive feedback that helps redress the balance, and allows me to write again. Truth is, I am very bad at sending work out, I just never do it, but I know I should (and being like me is something I will not recommend!) There was a period in which I was sending out a piece of work once a week, which I did for almost a year. This time coincides with when I was studying for an MA in creative writing, and was receiving negative feedback on a weekly basis. (One comment I really remember is someone saying, this is interesting work, but no is ever going to publish it are they?”) It was extremely difficult to continue writing, but the stubborn gene kicked in and I started sending work out. The reason I sent out something each week was due to the massive amount of rejection I received. I found this initially very hard. Notes from editors can take months, even a year, to be sent to you, and are for the most part very discouraging and unenlightening. The typical response is “not for us” on a compliment slip (compliment slip? Someone needs to come up with a new name for the slips editors’ use I believe!) When you have spent a long time writing something, and even longer waiting for it to be returned such a short response feels like a physical pain. One way around this is to stop sending work out, but at the time I took another, namely that by sending out something each week I was sending out so much work that when I finally received a reply chances are I would have forgotten about it, and the rejection didn’t seem to matter as much as when I was sending out work and waiting. Also, by sending out more work there was more chance that some of those replies would be positive (and all the more sweet when someone I had forgotten I had sent work to wanted to publish something in their magazine.) Sending work out is time consuming, and feels unrewarding, but there are times when you should do it, and in my case it is when I am need of some positive feedback and encouragement the most. Try to remember when most editors’ response is a no, it may have no bearing on the quality of your work whatsoever, and is probably that your work doesn’t fit with the style of the magazine and the editors own agenda.

Sometimes it helps for you to just get away from the people you know, the dog that needs walking, the telephone, whatever, and set aside that time to write. (Arvon courses are especially useful for this.) Go to writers groups sometimes, and see if you can get any encouragement there, if you aren’t getting it elsewhere. Ask yourself why you write, and listen to the answer. If you write because you love writing, try not to love your work too much, and be prepared for feedback and to look at your work and change it. Listen to what people say, and learn to know when not to listen. It all sounds complicated, contradictory, but then again, no one said it would be easy. In terms of feedback, there will be times when it is hugely helpful, a piece of work that has something wrong with it you can’t put your finger on can benefit enormously from a new perspective. It feels like a door has been opened and you can see through to what is on the other side, suddenly you are able to complete the work and feel happier about it. But at other times you will receive negative feedback, that proves unhelpful and it is these times you start to wonder why you write in the first place, and what you are doing. I have found that the times I feel like this aren’t when I receive negative feedback on a piece of work I know is incomplete or needs work, but when people comment on things in the work I am happy with.

 
Photos © Robin Cowings