A Regular Day

Someone recently asked me what a regular writing day looked like for me. So…here you go (or at least the highlights):

  1. Get up & eat breakfast, during which I read email and Twitter. I usually don’t answer any email immediately unless it can be done in less than 3 lines. Also I do the NY Times mini-crossword puzzle and review my to-do list.(NOTE: I keep a daily to-do list in a straight-up text file. The file contains stuff for at least a week in advance. I also use my iPad’s calendar program to keep track of dates, but I copy any appointments from the calendar into the text to-do list. The to-do list is inspired by bullet journals but more informal.)
  2. Write a few morning pages longhand, mostly reviewing things I saw or heard the previous day. I try to record tangible experiences, rather than just chatting about ideas.
  3. Transcribe any longhand writing from the day before. Basically, when I’m writing something new, I write longhand first (yes, pen on paper). The next day, I start my writing session by transcribing the longhand stuff into Scrivener. This helps remind me where I was, and also gives me a chance to do quickie rewrites on what I produced the previous day.
  4. Use the Pomodoro technique to write longhand for two hours. That means 25 minutes of nothing but writing, then five minutes of break-time (bathroom, having a snack, etc.). Repeat the 25-on/5-off for a total of four sessions, giving about two hours of new writing.
  5. Take a longer break: half an hour. I’ll do my daily Duolingo (currently learning Japanese, and keeping up on Spanish) and have a small lunch
  6. Back to another four Pomodoro sessions: either writing or editing (if I have an editing job…and by the way, if you ever need editing services, feel free to inquire).
  7. Another longer break. Usually, this is when I go for a walk to my local library. I almost always have something I want to pick up at the library, or something I have to take back. Even if I don’t have anything to get or return, going to the library is a nice break.
  8. Back for another two hours of work. This is either editing work, or business stuff. Here is when I answer email, deal with business paperwork, etc. If I’m working on a definite project (e.g. editing), I’ll do it Pomodoro style again, but often it’s just little bits and pieces that don’t fit the work-in-depth system.
  9. Thus ends my writing/editing day. Now into other stuff. Half an hour for hobby-like activity.
  10. Walk or drive for errands (shopping, etc.) in the late afternoon.
  11. Most nights, I either do kung fu or role-playing games.
  12. Read for at least 15 minutes before going to bed.

Auxiliary reading:

For bathroom reading, I (very slowly) work through something “classic”. Recently, I worked my way through Christopher Logue’s poetry version of the Iliad. Now I’m working through Ishmael Reed’s “Mumbo Jumbo”.

For kitchen reading (when I’m eating snacks or drinking coffee), I do idle research. In preparation for writing Miranda in NOBODY TOLD ME YOU COULD BREAK THE MOON, I worked through a first-year physics textbook. Now, I’m reading BLACK EDGE by Sheelah Kolhatkar, so I’ll know about sleazy financiers. (This is preparation for something secret I think I’ll call Project 3H.)

And for times when I want a break from reading, I do cryptic crossword puzzles. Right now I’m working through a book of New Statesman crosswords from the 1980s.

So there: if there is such a thing as a typical day, that’s how it goes. Any questions?

Sharing: Third-Person to First

I’ve been reading Show Your Work by Austin Kleon, in which he suggests that writers and artists should share information about their creative process.

I’ve decided to do just that. At the end of every day, I intend to tweet about what writing I did. From time to time, I’ll also write blog posts. So consider this the first installment of an ongoing feature.

First, some background. On November 7, my next novel comes out: ALL THOSE EXPLOSIONS WERE SOMEONE ELSE’S FAULT. In it, four students at the University of Waterloo gain superpowers. My plan has always been to make a four-book series, with each book centering on one of the students.

The first book is told by Kim Lam in first-person, past tense. The second book, THEY PROMISED THE GUN WASN’T LOADED, is told by Jools Walsh in first-person, present tense. I turned in that book to my editor in August. Afterward, I took some time to work on short stories and other projects, but I started Book 3 around the start of October.

My original plan was to write Book 3 in third-person past tense, and Book 4 in third-person present tense. That way, each of the four books would have a very different feel. So I started Book 3 and wrote about 2000 words. Then I started again with a different approach and wrote about 4000 words. Then I started again and got to 8000. Each version described the same events but with a different flavor and tone of voice.

This is standard procedure for me. I try different ways to get into a story, with different tones of voice and ways of opening up the action. Sooner or later, something clicks and I can proceed to get into the meat of the story.

But my attempts to use third-person, past tense just weren’t working. They were too distant. I originally thought this would be okay, because Book 3 centers on the character of Miranda, and she’s quite a private person. In fact, I could easily believe that if Miranda sat down to tell this story herself, she’d write it in the third-person to impose a sense of separation.

But I didn’t like the effect. For one thing, it wasn’t as funny as the first two books; third-person wasn’t personal enough to allow wry comments and turns of phrase. It also wasn’t as energetic as Miranda herself. She’s a strong quirky character. That wasn’t coming across.

So a few days ago, I decided to start again. A phrase popped into my head: Dear [Redacted]…. (I’ve omitted the name because I think there’s a good chance I’ll change my mind on who it is, and I don’t want to set up false expectations.) The idea is that Miranda is writing a letter to someone she met in the course of the adventure, and telling them how everything worked out.

I find this idea interesting; I think it will work. So I’ve started another iteration, this time writing in first-person past tense, the way you’d write a letter. I think this will make the voice sufficiently different from the first two books that Book 3 will sound like it comes from a brand new narrator. The epistolary format also justifies certain kinds of exposition: the person Redacted isn’t familiar with a lot of the world’s background, so there’s an excuse for Miranda to fill in backstory while she’s telling the tale.

I have high hopes for this approach. So far I like the chemistry. I’ve got about 4000 words in the new tone of voice and another 4000 to go before I match what I’ve already got. After that, we’ll see what happens when I finish revising existing material and start something new. Wish me luck!