Seven

1) Pick a time. Take a look at what’s possible. It doesn’t have to be an enormous amount of time, either, unless you absolutely require an enormous amount of time. (But beware of absolute requirements–they don’t function well against the limitations and vagaries of human life.) Do your best to make this a “no matter what” time, but in case that can’t work, pick a back-up time. This will help with number two.

2) Make it a routine habit. Do it daily if possible–daily offers its own kind of magic and it’s easy to remember–but however you do it, do it on a set schedule.

3) Set yourself a cue that’s already in place. If you eat lunch at the same time everyday, maybe this is something you do in the half-hour before or after lunch. If you wake up earlier than you have to, maybe this is something you do right when you wake up. If someone calls you at 11 a.m. or 5 p.m. everyday, write after that call. If the mail is delivered at a certain time each day, write when you hear the hinges of the box. If you have some downtime after a staff meeting each week, go directly to your writing then. Find ways to work it into what’s already happening and have an external cue that you will teach yourself means: it’s time to write.

4) Keep a list of topics or scenes or images or ideas or pictures that inspire you. Use this list when you feel daunted by the blank page. Alternately, keep a book of poetry handy and read (aloud if possible) for a few minutes. Steal a half a line and use that to begin your own writing.

5) Consider the use of a timer. At any rate, be really clear about your end time as well as your start, so that you can check yourself if your mind decides that your writing time has come to an end. Jennifer Egan talks about a friend who posted a note on her office door that says, “Where are you going?” because she tends to wander off in the middle of her writing. A timer is one way to tie yourself to your desk/ writing time. A sign is another. What kind of leash can you imagine helping you stay focused, or at least stay seated?

6) Begin. If you do not know what to write about, write about that. Describe something across from you or out the window or that you saw on the bus on the way to work. Whatever you do, begin. Type a letter to someone you don’t know any more. Just get going. This is the hardest piece of advice to take, in a way. It’s like playing or homework–this thing of having a writing practice is both elusive and very ordinary and we resist this combination. Type. Scribble. Just do it.

7) Continue. Keep writing until the timer rings. Do it again the next day. The voice that hates what you have to say or thinks you have nothing worthwhile to say at all will be loud and clear when you take up this habit. Ignore it. Part of the practice, part of what makes you strong, is ignoring that voice. You do your part, which is these seven steps. Nothing more, nothing less. Miracles will happen. Discipline is a marvelous thing–I say this as one who is in many ways new to it. You are in an enormous tent. From the outside it looks like nothing at all. But inside are rooms no one has ever seen and wealth no one can imagine but you and miles and miles to wander, miles and miles to go.