(Note: WordPress does not like me today. It is not letting me put in paragraph breaks. And Cinderella (AKA me!) has to get to the ball and doesn’t have time to argue with the blog!)
In
her post today,
Sara Zarr talks about the times she needs to switch from output mode to input mode. This rang a real bell with me–it’s something I ran into for the first time as I was finishing up and revising
The Writing & Critique Group Survival Guide. This was the first time that I remember feeling so drained from focusing on getting words
out, that I needed to take solid breaks and put some words
in.
When I was working full-time, I think I experienced a variation of this. I would spend my requisite six to eight hours behind my desk, writing explanations and instructions for technical manuals, and then I would come home and try to write fiction. Usually, I’d get a little bit in, but often, the evening would revolve around a long bath, a cup of tea, and reading a good book. Day: Output; Evening: Input. Let me just say, I admire beyond boundaries people who do manage to put in those long work hours and still produce full-length manuscripts, whether those manuscripts are ready for publication or not.
On those days, my brain felt like a sponge. Even the most boring academic “Let me prove my point to you over and over” books felt good in my hands, in front of my eyes. Because they were putting words into my head, instead of asking me to pour them out.
When I stopped working full-time, I was still very busy–I had a bright, active toddler to take care of and, of course, the house/life stuff that fell onto my plate. But…less of that was output. It was in those days that I really started concentrating on my fiction, on getting stacks of pages written, on digging into the feedback from my critique group, on revising. I didn’t just have a bit more output energy; there were days my brain was begging for an hour or two of output mode.
As I was writing the critique book for Writer’s Digest, I was—for the first time in quite a while—writing under deadline. This meant developing an even tighter focus and really spending “school hours” as writing hours—output hours. I was and am determined to keep making progress on my own fiction, so I was doing output to get word-count and revision down on those projects. Which added up to…days that shrieked STOP! Days where I’d lay on the couch, snuggled up with a winter blanket, and pull out a research book for my historical YA WIP.
The last couple of weeks have been divided between wrapping up the school year, socializing with friends and relations (which for an introvert also = output!), and moving on my WIP’s first draft. Today, in between a morning celebration for a friend and an evening party, guess where I found myself? Yep, on the couch. I thought I’d nap, but instead, I stayed awake, eyes front, brain imbibing this:
- The first cable car was invented in San Francisco, California? Think about it–all those hills. As my son says, horses have a lot of shins to get shin splints on!
- Cable cars didn’t work so well in Chicago. The cables had to be deeper in the ground, to run below the frostline. That meant the grip had to be longer, which meant more break-downs. Plus, you know, all the frozen horse poop (lots of horses still around on the streets) kept falling into the cracks and gunking up the cable.
- Chicago switched to electric streetcars, which were first developed in Richmond, Virginia. There’s a question for your next trivia game!
I know. Little stuff. But input, input, input. Not to mention, it gets me much more immersed in the world about which I’m writing, which translates into inspiration and motivation to get back to…output!
Sara says for her, input is “Books, music, poetry, movies, and Gabriel Byrne.” 🙂 For me, it’s mostly books, your blogs, and a bit of serious “quiet time.” What about you? How do you recognize when you’re drained of output power? What input helps you recharge?
Becky Levine 