For this blog I’m talking about the environment you write in – some people require complete silence to write while others require the cozy hum of conversation around them, some people like to listen to classical while others like to write love sonnets to the dulcet tones of black metal, some people write outdoors, some people write indoors, some people write best on a computer while others prefer a notepad – so what works best for you and how do you achieve it? Think of this blog as a way to help you set up a studio space – a method of creating an environment where you can write peacefully, but also an environment that you can hopefully take along with you. The last blog was about initializing a product; this one is about organizing the toolbench where your toolkit will see most of its work accomplished.
As an artist (when I’m painting in particular) I’m very picky about my environment – I set up a towel and an easel, lay out my paints, put my brushes easily within reach, and lock the door, opening it only (and I do mean only) to use the restroom or get more water for mixing paint; I don’t eat, I don’t sleep, I don’t talk to people – I don’t even change the music – before I start painting I make a CD with ten or so songs that I like, set it on repeat, and when I realize that I’ve heard the same song four times I take a minute to stretch. It’s not a social environment, it’s not a friendly environment, and I don’t take kindly to people intruding on me for silly things like noise levels or food or the house burning down.
While I don’t need as sterile an environment to write effectively do find myself incapable of writing after putting out a fire, or in a moving vehicle, or even with the sound of a conversation behind me buzzing in my ears – maybe you can, and that’s fantastic, but is it the best place for you to write? Probably not. So let’s examine that.
Noise:
People tell me that when I’m painting or drawing, I make the face that I’m illustrating. I don’t know if that’s true, but I do know that when I’m writing I tend to reflect the music I’m listening to. Classical is completely out for me when I’m writing fiction – Mozart, my favorite composer of all fucking time – messes with my writing; I start to hear the notes and enjoy the music and class up my writing to match what I’m hearing, which is fantastic if I’m trying to write a period drama or a sonnet or something like that, but which is utter crap if I’m trying to write a horror story or Science Fiction. Similarly, I love Rammstein but I find that I become a little too … abrupt … if I’m listening to Rammstein when I’m writing an academic paper. Now, I know this sounds dumb but it happens – if you listen to music when you’re writing read through your writing and figure out if the music had an impact on it. If not, cool, but if it did change your tone you either need to change what you’re listening to or cultivate that tone – I’ve found that Mozart is good for essays for me, and that Rammstein helps me write angry German characters. However, the best noise environment for me is with some music, preferably the extremely ignorable kind – synthpop, mild techno, Sigur Ros and nineties teen comedy soundtracks are all amusing and unlikely to distract me with complicated instrumentation or profound lyrics.
So play around and figure out what works for you – even if you don’t find the actual words you’re writing are influenced by the music you listen to, you may find that you’re more productive when listening to a certain kind of music, or that you write emotions better when you’re listening to music that captures the essence of that emotion (seriously, I dare you to write something totally depressing while listening to “Ode to Joy.”)
Now about other kinds of noise: I don’t like hearing people talk when I’m writing – I start to write down what they’re saying or I get distracted and just start eavesdropping on them (which is great when you’re working on dialogue, but less great when you’re writing a poem about coyotes.) Some people work best with people talking around them, some people hate it – figure out what works for you and include that in your writing regimen. Natural noise is a tough one – waterfalls and waves and wind can be incredibly soothing and can help some people write, but are an irritating background sound for many others – again, figure out what works best for you and try to stick with it.
Locale:
Three times now I’ve tried to go on “writing weekends” by myself, check into a hotel room, and just sit down to write for three days straight. All that came of these experiments was an amusing story about bedbugs (which I’ll retell some other time) and a firm resolve to never again stay at a Motel Six. I write well in parked cars, in libraries, at the beach, on camping trips, in quiet classrooms, and I write very well in my garage with a cigarette and a cup of coffee. My luck at coffee shops is spotty and requires A) Some music to drown out people talking and B) A coffee shop where I’m not a regular and therefore won’t be constantly interrupted by people I know asking what I’m writing. I do not write well in hotels that I’ve checked into with the specific intention of writing, moving vehicles, in front of a television, in crowded classrooms, at sporting events, or when I’m at work at my “real” job. Everyone is different, and you as a writer will be different from day-to-day when it comes to where you’re comfortable writing. I tried the writing weekends because I have a friend who swears by them – he’s a fantastic poet, but he’s easily distracted and so he needs to get away from his friends and his life to finish a series, but they didn’t work at all for me. I have another friend who doesn’t understand how I can write in a dirty garage with washers and dryers going and my husband working on the car behind me – she needs a clean, empty desk and a constantly re-filled pot of tea to get words out. Just like you’ll need to figure out what noise level suits you best for writing, you’ll have to test yourself to find out where you write best; maybe you’ve only ever written in your bedroom at night – see what happens when you go to a coffee shop at noon; maybe you’ve only written when you’re around a lot of people – find out what happens when you write alone in your car.
Platform:
Okay, I touched on this in one of my “Tips for Writers” blogs but I’m coming back to it – what do you write with? Physically, in your hands or on your lap or at your desk – are you holding a fountain pen? A Quill? A laptop?
I write most of my blogs on a laptop – it’s handy for research, I can take it almost anywhere and it forces me to take breaks when I forget my charger. That’s great for blogging, because I give myself time to check my blogs over and because they’re generally short pieces that don’t require five re-writes.
Poetry is another story entirely – I write most of my poems in notebooks before I type them because I’ve usually written them in my head before I write them in the notebook. In my head I write for sound, in the notebook I write for structure, and on my laptop I re-write them for sound before I re-write them again for vocabulary. When I compose a poem from start to finish on the laptop it generally stays a first draft forever – I’ll occasionally change a word here or there, but I never re-write it (read: take the time to improve it) the way that I do when there’s that intermediary between my head and the paper.
I strongly recommend writing anything that’s longer than 2000 words by hand, at least in part. Why? Typing is too fast and if you’re writing more than 2000 words you’re less likely to re-read what you’ve written than if it were 100 words. Take the time that hand-writing a piece requires, and take the time to transcribe it, again at least in part, so that you’ll have a greater familiarity with the wording and heft of the piece.
Well I’ve once more written substantially more than I had planned so I’ll cut myself off here, but I will give my final thoughts about developing a writing workspace before I go.
Build a comfortable space for yourself. Isolate yourself or immerse yourself as much as you need in order to write comfortably. Create an ideal environment and write in that environment as much as you can – but don’t come to depend on it. Always have a notebook handy just in case you’re struck by inspiration in the worst writing environment possible, and take as much advantage as you can of any situation that you’re in.
I’ll be back on Sunday, February 12th with the next part of the toolkit – Substance and Substances, a two-for one about writing content and the stimulants writers sometimes depend on to achieve contentious writing.
Until then, Cheers,
Alli.
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