The writing regimen

"You need to take charge of your writing career, because no one else will."

I don't remember the exact words that longtime freelance writer and writing instructor Wendy Call used, so my quotes are perhaps misplaced. But the gist of the advice is on target. It came back to me today, as I listened to two friends talk about how their jobs were wearing them down, robbing them of their creativity, running them ragged, and making them feel too frazzled and too distracted to write. I felt a little guilty as I heard them talk because I am coming off of an unprecedented four-week block of time where I have used several of my accumulated vacation days as well as a work trip to avoid the persistent pile of tasks at the office in order to indulge in three passions: writing, planting, and working out.

I did an amazing amount of indulging in all three over the past month.

And I feel great.

Let me describe the regimen I followed. It's fairly basic: Morning, rise and have coffee. Write for two to three hours and/or read work directly related to a writing project. Follow this with a two-hour workout, and then two to four hours in the garden. Drink a lot of water and eat a lot of fresh fruit while working outdoors, and don't forget the sunscreen. Afterwards, eat dinner, and write for one to two additional hours before going to bed.

During the work trip, which was an 8 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. work day (with an hour off for lunch, 12:15-1:15 p.m., on the dot), I woke up at 5 a.m. to write and read for writing each day, and did two workouts -- usually a run during the lunch break and a swim or bike ride between 5:30 and 7 p.m. After dinner, I worked in a night stint of writing, usually after calling my husband to check in on things at home.

It was not a difficult regimen. At home and away from home, I slept eight hours most nights and managed to have three healthy meals. Four weeks later, my skin is healthily tanned, and my body feels fit and trim. My attitude about my work is running high, and that's because the writing regimen was do-able, consistent, and somewhat forgiving.

In short, it worked.

I share the regimen because I know all too well the feeling of office overwork. One of the consequences of our post-industrial, twenty-first society's 24/7 pace is the fact that workers -- particularly those in the office, educational, and other high-tech sectors -- are essentially on the job all the time. (Yes, I, too, am guilty of waking up from a sound sleep to check the e-mail coming in on my smart phone at 3 a.m., and actually responding to a query despite the fact that the response could have waited till morning.) In the olden days -- before cell phones and e-mail, back in the 1980s -- I used to maintain a rigid separation between work and home. I did my best not to take work home with me. I did my best not to go into the office on my days off. Technology and a corresponding expectation of 24/7 availability has eroded my ability to maintain that separation. I'm not complaining, however, because the trade-off has been more flexibility in my schedule and more freedom to create what's often defined as work-life balance.

"I want to have a balanced life."

I remember saying that to Evelyne Raposo, a superbly supportive life coach type therapist who guided me through six years of doctoral work, emotional loneliness, flighty romances, and ultimately the lasting and highly loving relationship I have with the man who became my husband.

Evelyne's eyes lit up as I listed that statement as one of my goals for her work with me. For years, she worked with me to define what balance meant and how I could try and effect it on a day-to-day, week-to-week, month-to-month and year-to-year basis in a world where flux is the norm. What I learned from her was that imbalance creates stress. Stress produces a hormone called cortisol that can be hazardous to one's health, producing obesity, draining energy, and resulting in such ailments as hypertension.

Even though I was aware of the effects of imbalance, I felt incapable of creating a balance because it always seemed as if there was not enough. Not enough time. Not enough money. Not enough focus. Not enough clarity to get what I needed to get.

I finished my work with Evelyne as a success. I completed my doctorate, and I found the man of my dreams. We got married.

But imbalance took its tool. I will be on blood pressure and cholesterol medications probably for the rest of my life because stress eroded the strength of my heart, leaving me with hypertension. I was obese, and, at one point, at risk of developing diabetes.

These warning bells gave the words that Wendy Call uttered a new dimension: "You need to take care of your writing life because no one else will."

Today, at age fifty, I am no longer overweight. I write two times a day, and I exercise usually five or six days a week. I remain on blood pressure and cholesterol medications, but I am healthy, both physically and emotionally. My husband is on the same path to health as I am. We work together to build a life around gardening, exercise, and our creative pursuits -- writing for me, photography for him. At some point I realized that the pile-up of work at the office never really shrinks. One thing gets done; two other things move into its place. Needs and deadlines constantly haunt me, via e-mail, text messaging, and sometimes snail mail and phone calls.

Yet, I have found a way to walk away from the pile, knowing (or at least hoping) that "one more day" won't translate into the end of the world. I try to be as efficient as I can. But ultimately I walk away.

What allows me to walk away is the writing regimen I have adopted. It is balanced with a healthful blend of rest and activity, coupled with balance between home life and work life that is vital to one's existence.

So, I concur with Wendy. If you want to write, you must take control of your writing life. If you don't take care of your writing life, no one else will.

The bad and beautiful first draft

After thirty days of writing poetry in April and thirty-one day of writing short stories in May, I find myself feeling thematically hooked on doing a late-night exercise of some sort and posting it to a blog. I don't want to self-promote this writing, particularly, but I do want to do it and I do want to share it. I'm not sure why, beyond the fact that there's something very powerful and self-affirming about putting your writing out into the world.

I learned a few lessons about the writing I did in April and in May, especially in May. To summarize:

1. Nightly check-ins with a set questionnaire are a pain in the neck. I disliked doing them, and dropped that piece of the May project after about two days. I realized that a check-in wasn't helping me write better. Instead, it was making me feel anxious and was taking up a lot of time. That experience tells me something about how self-assessments might feel for the students that I teach. Perhaps a check-in every three or four weeks makes sense. Every night or every week definitely does not.

2. Sticking to a single theme for an entire month also didn't work for me. I started off writing scenes related to my book-in-progress, then began to feel uncomfortable sharing these scenes publicly because they really were not stories in and of themselves but scenes that were meant to fit together in a larger work. I think I wrote some good scenes that will work well in the larger work, but I realized that I couldn't complete them in a single "throw-down-some-words" hour or two with the page.

After I dropped the idea of writing scenes related to my book project, I tried concentrating on themes that I think I would like to generate into books eventually such as the joys and challenges of teaching historical events live from the event itself and the adventures of my husband and myself in backyard gardening. The latter theme particularly resulted in several successful stories, but even that was a theme I couldn't sustain for more than a few days at a time. This experience also was quite instructive in how I teach writing and storytelling to students. Students in one of my classes -- Digital Storytelling -- maintain a story blog for a full semester. They're supposed to decide and then announce to the rest of the class early in the term what the blog is going is to be about. Many of them struggle with the assignment and lose their enthusiasm for blogging after making one or two posts. One thought is that one cannot really know what a blog is going to be about until one gets deep into the process of blogging itself. To that end, I was thrilled to find a different kind of challenge to take on for June. Developed by bloggers at Wordpress, it's called "Post Every Day", and includes a prompt for one to follow if you have no inspiration of your own. Since April 1, I have managed to write a minimum of 750 words each day, and to create a work of writing on 60 of the 61 days in April and May. So I figured that perhaps it might be time to see if I can blog every day, either on this site or on the Moving Your Body site. If it works, I might continue it through July, August, and beyond.

I might invite my Digital Storytelling students to try out the idea, as well.

3. The third insight that I gained from the April and May daily challenges is perhaps the most significant. I would articulate it as learning to trust my voice and giving myself permission to let some writing that is rough around the edges be made available via blog posts and Facebook status updates to a universe greater than me, my notebook, and my laptop. Most of the writing that I did for the challenges was done between 10 p.m. and midnight, at the end of my day. I simply couldn't make the space to do it any earlier in the day. As the weeks advanced, I also found myself realizing that I did not want to do it earlier. I liked the nightly ritual of settling down with a cup of tea or a glass of seltzer water and letting a story pour out. I felt as if the end-of-the-day routine liberated me from demands to polish, check facts, or ground assertions I was making in research. These habits, of course, are good and important habits, and they are ones that I practice diligently as I am working on more polished drafts. But they can stifle and inhibit a writer's voice from coming out, if they are allowed precedence over the quick-and-dirty, no-holds-barred first draft expression of the voice.

I hope to revise many of the writings I created in April and May, and already have submitted some of the poems I created for a possible reading this summer. It may take several years before all of this work is either revised or discarded, but that's the beauty of giving yourself freedom to create really bad first drafts. The drafts often aren't as bad as the writer thinks they are, and undoubtedly, they're also not as good. But it really helps to put them down, share them with a public, and receive feedback.

This is where I will conclude for now. Today's prompt from The Daily Post was to write about something ugly while also finding beauty or hope in one's thoughts. The ugly and the beauty, and, of course, the hope lie in the freedom to write first drafts.