The three-minute writing workshop: The importance of writing absolutely nothing.

...so long as you're THINKING about your writing.

My writing desk in New Hampshire. A place where sometimes I sit and DO NOT WRITE.

I’m going to say a few words now about one under-recognized aspect of the writing process. It’s called thinking.

When I read the inspirational words of online writing coaches, I’m often a little put off when one of them places a focus on some variation of the idea that the secret to getting a book written is “getting your butt in the seat”, as if something magical takes place, when a person’s rear end connects with her chair. I’ve said this before and I’ll say it before. Your butt and your chair have absolutely nothing to do with your success as a writer.

So…I’m going to suggest a somewhat different approach.

One thing I’ve learned, from over five decades of supporting myself as a fulltime writer: There’s not point turning out pages, until you know what you want to say. In fact, writing prematurely—by which I mean, writing before you’ve given thought to the words you need to get onto the page—may actually get you into trouble.

Why? Because the more words you write, the more words you’re going to feel attached to. And the harder it may be to let go of them. Which you might need to do…if you wrote those words without a clear idea of where you were headed, or what your intention might be. Writing, without first considering, deeply, what you want to write, and where its center lies…what the journey is on which you want to take your reader…is a little like thinking you could build a house by taking a pile of lumber and starting to hammer them together. Or—another favorite image of mine (though I am in no way a baseball aficionado)—it’s like how it might be for a pitcher, strolling out onto the mound, if he didn’t throw a few pitches in the bullpen to warm up first.

As some of you may have gathered, if you’ve been following my posts here, I’ve been working hard on a new novel. I’m putting in very long days at my desk . There’s just no getting around the face, if you want to write a book, you’re going to need to do this at some point.

But now and then, in my life as a writer, I take a whole day off. Except my days off are different from some people’s days off. I’m still working. But my work takes the form of thinking.

The last time I took a day off like this, I drove almost two hours—to the ocean, and once I got there I went for a swim. I saw a couple of friends, ate a few raw oysters, then drove another two hours home. (Oh, along the way, I spotted a couch along the road that someone was giving away, FREE. I liked this little couch, and thought it might look really great in my boat house. My car is very small—a Hyundai—but I found a nice man to help me, and we managed to get it in the back, with the trunk open. I even had some bungee cords in the front seat, left there from a few weeks back, when I’d brought them along with me on a blueberry picking mission, to tie my bucket around my waist. )

So…I spent four hours in the car. Driving. I did not listen to podcasts or play music. But I thought…a whole lot…about my new novel. I came up with some really great ideas. I figured out a few problems. It felt good to do this in my car, with all kinds of great scenery scrolling past, out the windows, instead of sitting at my desk all day, pondering.

The next day I got back to work. Things went particularly well. I did put my butt in the seat, in fact.. But FIRST I put my brain to work. I thought for a while. Then thougth some more. That way, by the time I put my fingers on the keyboard, I knew where I was going.

For me, it’s essential to plan my trip, before I set out on the road. Though even then, I’m sure to discover some surprises along the way. As is true with any good road trip, that’s part of the beauty of the process, too.