I finished a book today.
It's still a little thrilling to say those words, be them out loud or typed (and sometimes I swear my voice is louder when it's typed anyway).
So I'll say them again.
I finished a book today.
I found the end of my story, the end that's been hanging, tantalizingly out of reach, for the past week or so. I found it and I wrote it and at the end of something close to 6,000 words written today alone, I typed those beautiful, magical words: THE END.
(I typed them all in caps for emphasis. It gives them more weight, don't you think?)
This was the seventh book I've written. The seventh. Is it lucky number seven? I don't know yet. I do know it's so far from perfect that I'm dreading editing it, but that'll be a story for another day, far down the road from here.
That it's the seventh feels significant, though, at least to me. I mean, seven books. Seven. That feels like a lot. I mean, lots of people write one book, and lots write two.
I have to admit: when my friend Jen challenged me back in 2010 to write "a book," I never in my wildest dreams imagined that one day I'd wake up having written seven.
So that's kind of cool, at least to me.
This book was a significant departure from my past writing process, though, and it had some weird results. I promised another friend I'd tell you about them. He's curious about process, and actually, so am I. So here are some things I did differently for this book, and how I think they helped. I think they helped. I think they helped a lot, in fact.
Read on if you're interested in process...if not, no worries, and I'm just glad you stopped by!
This time, I outlined. Or at least I tried to.
This book was weird. It came about one day when I was listening to someone giving a speech on television, and they mentioned "we all have a set number of days in our lives," and I thought, "Well, what if you know exactly how many you have, from the day you're born?"
Thus, a book was born.
Much of it appeared, fully formed in my mind, on that very first day. I didn't want to lose facts and plot points and characters, so at my first opportunity, I outlined.
I know, I know. I'm a pantser when I write...I usually have no idea what's going to happen, or to whom, or anything like that when I set out. So this was...weird.
I wrote my outline on a whole bunch of index cards, figuring that would make it easier to move things around or re-outline as needed. I had dozens of cards laid out on my floor one afternoon, arranging and rearranging, and then I picked them up in the order in which I'd write.
At first, it helped SO MUCH. Each card was a chapter. When I finished a chapter, I'd cross out the card, but keep it in the stack so I'd know what I'd done. It kept me on task and motivated (a list-maker in real life, I LOVE crossing things out!!), and for the first couple weeks, I kept to it.
And then one day I changed a plot point in my head, and I lost my cards, and I never again looked back from there.
So yeah. I suck at outlining, but I really think that my attempt at it made a huge difference in speed and quality of writing in those early chapters. Usually the beginning of a book plods along for me as I find my way, but this time? I reached 10,000 words in the first week, which was absolutely, 100% a new record for me.
Will I outline again?
I don't know....maybe if another idea comes to me as fully formed. If not, though, I'll manage. I did enjoy the process, but I also enjoyed leaving those cards behind.
This time, I stopped freelancing.
A couple years ago, when I quit my full-time job to be a full-time writer, I...kind of freaked the hell out. Because the money! I had none! I was living fully on the basis of my husband's paycheck, and it was the first time since I was about twelve years old that I wasn't making my own income.
So I started picking up freelancing gigs. The City Paper. LitReactor. Other random magazines and publications.
And it was fun and I loved parts of it, but one day last year I realized: ALL I was doing was freelancing. I wasn't making progress on my books, and instead was meeting all these other deadlines.
This year I had a chat with my husband, and he gave me the greenlight to not worry about money, at least for a little while, and focus full-time on my books. So I took some time off from most of my freelancing gigs and...
Holy shit, I wrote a book in just under two months.
It's amazing what you can do when you're really focused.
This time, I found a schedule that really worked for me.
Here's my schedule as it stands right now:
Monday - Friday, I take Zoe to school and am home by 8 a.m. I write from 8 until 10 or 10:30. That's a hard cutoff. I will not let my writing bleed into the rest of my day. That's my own rule and I try not to break it. That way, when I'm writing, I'm writing. I'm not getting up to start laundry or pick up stuff in the kitchen. I'm just writing.
After 10:30 I exercise (run or yoga or whatever random thing I do), and then I turn into a stay-at-home-mom. From around 11:30 till I go get Zoe at 2:45, I'm cleaning up or working on projects or running errands.
My days feel VERY full, every day, and I do take breaks and goof off and visit with my "office friends" on Twitter, but that is my schedule, and this time I made my writing time sacred, and it was amazing to see the pages pile up faster than they've ever piled up before.
This time, I used a particular playlist and borrowed Charles's headphones.
Dude. This one surprised me.
I've heard other writers often talk about playlists and using music as a writing cue. I just never knew how effective it would be for me.
On a whim, I created a playlist the day I started writing this particular book. I chose songs I loved, songs that had good memories associated with them, and songs that I knew well enough that they could fade into the background while I listened. Van Morrison. Dire Straits. Simon and Garfunkel. These were the voices in my ears.
And it helped, a little. At least I was enjoying my soundtrack.
But then, a few days later, I borrowed Charles's headphones to tune out some background noise, everything...clicked.
From then on, when I sat down to write, I put on the headphones and turned on the playlist, and suddenly that was it. It was time to write. The very act of doing those things told me: get to work, you goofball, and quit pretending your email is so very important that you need to keep checking it.
I can't believe how much of a difference that little psychological game made. I watched my word count almost double, every day, once I started doing it.
So that was pretty cool.
In all, this book moved along quickly. Normally I struggle to reach 2,000 words each day. This time? Most days I wrote around 3,000 words, easily. It made those afternoon chores easier to bear. It made my chaotic weekends more fun. I didn't worry as much that I wasn't getting anything done, book-wise, on Saturdays and Sundays, because suddenly I knew I could get it all done during the week. I made my writing time sacred, and routine, and ohmigosh, it was tremendous.
Man. I should have written this post for LitReactor, shouldn't I? Maybe one day I'll try to cross-post it somewhere else. Because as a writer, I LOVE reading about what works for other writers. Your process may be quirky, but maybe I can steal something from it that makes my days that much better.
I hope you can steal something from mine.
And no matter what...man. Seven books. I'm feeling pretty damn good tonight.
I hope you are, too!