Live To Write Another Day (2 page)

Getting into that alpha state goes hand in hand with another very important aspect of creative writing—the environment in which you write.

Though some people have no issues whatsoever writing in a noisy environment, like a coffee shop or a restaurant, most of us need some relatively quiet space where it’s a little easier to concentrate. I’m generally in the quiet camp, but there are also specific components of the process that I find I can do almost anywhere. Not surprisingly, I tend to be fine in a louder environment for the more active
aspects of the job, like brainstorming, concepting, and outlining. On the other hand, I usually need a more serene environment for tasks that involve more passive listening and comprise the heavy-lifting part of the process. For instance, if I’m focused on dialogue, I tend to require a pretty cloistered-type space. Writing dialogue is probably the most passive thing you do as a writer, as you are basically listening to people talk in your head and acting like a stenographer.

Up until the day my first child was born, I pretty much always wrote at home. My wife was around here and there, but she was usually busy with her own stuff, so the house was, for the most part, a fairly serene place. Newborn infants, however, are not always very accommodating, as anyone who’s had one will attest. Consequently, when our first little girl came along, I found myself in dire need of a place where I could go to get my “alpha state on.” I could have looked for office space somewhere, but I wasn’t too keen on spending the money, so I continued to pursue other options and eventually arrived at a very attractive alternative.

One of my best friends is an acupuncturist. My ingenious plan was to ask him if I could use his office after hours and write at his desk when no one else was around. Fortunately, he was very amenable to this arrangement. All I had to do was promise to keep the place clean and not stick needles in anybody in his absence. I didn’t know it at the time, but this actually turned out to be a very significant development in my writing life, because now I actually had a set schedule in which I
had
to write or else I knew I would never get anything done. I could come in every evening at around six p.m. and work as late as I liked. On the weekends, the place was all mine.

The significance of having a place like this is huge. One of the best screenwriters of all time, Woody Allen once said that eighty percent of success in life is just showing up. I couldn’t agree more. I’d also say that it’s a whole lot easier to show up when you actually have a place
to show up to
. You may not be as lucky as I am to have a friend who’s willing to share his or her space, but you may have other options.
Consistency
is the key. The best gift you can give yourself as a writer is to find that special spot where you can go, day in and day out, with little or no threat of it suddenly becoming unavailable to you. This is your safe house, your asylum, where your writer gene is always free to express itself.

By the way, my eldest daughter just turned seventeen and guess where I’m sitting right now as I write this? Oh how time flies in the asylum!

In addition to providing consistency, my buddy’s office also provides me with other benefits (some of them quite unexpected) that have definitely made me more productive.

For one thing, there aren’t any of my own distractions and temptations around (bills to pay, dogs to walk, TV to watch, etc.). Second, I always have to be mindful that I’m a guest and that everything has to be neat, tidy, and presentable when I leave. It is, after all, his place of business, and that must be respected. This simple fact keeps me focused on what I’m there to do, which is to write. But by far the biggest benefit is how I have come to associate the space itself with successful writing. To this day, I literally start to feel the rush of alpha waves come over me as I walk through the door. It’s as if my body is programmed to be productive simply because of the physical location in which I have placed it—which gives me the peace of mind that whenever I come up against a tough creative challenge, I absolutely know that I can solve it when I step into that room.

As much as I cherish working in my buddy’s office, I also think it’s important to have multiple environments, other
writing silos
where you can work and be stimulated by a change of scenery. As I mentioned, there are times when I will go to a coffee shop or a restaurant, but it’s usually not for more than an hour or two, and it’s usually only to brainstorm or do more high-concept type work. In this case, it’s the
change
that provides the creative spark I’m looking for, not necessarily the location itself.

I also belong to a place called The Writers Junction, which is a shared office-type space near my home in Santa Monica, California. Membership at The Writers Junction ranges from about $80 to $140 per month, depending on the package you choose. There are a couple of private rooms, but mostly writers share a number of larger “quiet rooms” where they sit alongside one another, similar to the way you would if you went to a public library. All the members are professional, respectful of one another, and serious about their careers, which makes it a very positive atmosphere. There is also something to be said for simply being around other writers, both for the camaraderie and the common energy, rather than being alone in a room all the time. So, if there’s a place like this near you, I would highly recommend checking it out.

Bottom line:

As a creative writer you can’t underestimate the role the environment you write in plays in shaping your work.

 

Let me ask you…why do you think I've written this widely known expression as if it were a cuss word?

Because writer's bl%#k is complete bulls%#t, that's why! It's a myth, a psychological illusion, a not-so-clever phrase that evil, spiteful people who clearly
don't
have the writer gene
have created in order to keep us writers down!

That rant may be a tad overly dramatic, I admit, but the part about it being a myth—that's absolutely true. There is no such thing as writer's bl%#k. Every problem in the universe (including that problem you're currently having in the middle of your story) has a solution. Your job is to find it. If you're having difficulty, it's not because you have writer's bl%#k, it's simply because you haven't yet unearthed that particular piece of the puzzle, the operative word being
yet
.

After all the years I've been writing, it amazes me how often this issue still rears its ugly head. In fact, I think there's been a point in almost every script I've ever written where I've said to myself: “Oh my God, I've invested months of my life into this thing and it's never going to work!” This is usually followed by a lot of pacing, worrying, and handwringing, during which time I proceed to question just about every decision I've made about it. This could go on for hours, days, or even as much as a week, though thankfully in my case it's usually resolved within twenty-four to forty-eight hours.

Why does this crisis moment inevitably strike, and if this isn't writer's bl%#k, then what the hell is?

The honest answer to the first part of the question is: I have no idea. All I know is that it happens to every writer I know, regardless of their level of experience. It'll happen to me again, and it will happen to you too, so be prepared. As for the second part, I repeat:

There is no such thing as writer's bl%#k.

What
is
this crisis thing then?

To be blunt, it's just panic. It's not an inability to find the answer. It's the sudden overwhelming feeling that the answer will never come. But the truth is, it's just a temporary state, a mirage in the midst of the desert. Understanding this phenomenon is the first step in solving any creative problem. By simply knowing in your heart, without a shadow of a doubt, that the solution exists
,
you've already got half the battle won. From there it's just a matter of trust that with time and a little persistence your process will eventually cause the mirage to evaporate and lead you to the promised land. This means that it's incumbent upon you to develop a process that you can rely on, a process that will give you the confidence and the fortitude to stare down that fear time after time.

All right, so now that we've dispelled this silly little myth, let's get down to brass tacks and talk about that process.