Do you ever feel like you are just not in the mood to write? Or that it seems like so much work. Maybe if you just get some of those pesky emails out of the way, you’ll feel like you are in a better headspace? Or better yet, dishes. Yes, cleaning the dishes will help you clean the clutter out of your brain and then, yes, then you’ll be in the mood to write.
I think you see where I am going here. You turn from your plan to write and get wrapped up in emails that never end or other administrative tasks masquerading as “important” and “urgent” items on your to-do list. Or your dishwashing quickly snowballs into a deep clean of your kitchen. My, isn’t that stovetop sparkling now!
But you still didn’t write.
Alas, this issue plagues many of us writers, and we may be tempted to blame distraction. Perhaps you are thinking, “I just need better habits!” I love a good habit. I also have lots of bad habits (nail biting, anyone?). Habit formation can help us avoid some of the problems of moods determining our behavior, can help us resist distractions, and overall help us to be better writers because they force us to write regularly and often. But you can’t establish a good habit if you don’t understand what actually works for you. A fundamental aspect of building a sustainable writing practice is noticing.
When you aren’t in a mood to write, instead of wallowing in that mood or seeking alternative activities, I challenge you to notice. What kind of mood are you in? What is this mood making you feel? When are you in a mood to write? Where are you? Did you remember to eat? Did you have something particularly tasty? Did you have the right amount of coffee? Is it a particular time of day? Notice these things. Investigate. Poke around. Ask some questions. Take some notes. Do this for a few days. Maybe even a whole week!
This noticing period is crucial. You will learn a lot, and some of it might surprise you. Try not to pass judgment on yourself. Then reflect on your noticing and make some conclusions. Maybe even share those conclusions with a friend.
Here, I’ll go first. It took about a month of noticing for me to realize that I work best first thing in the morning. And by first thing, I mean first thing. Like roll out of bed, still in my pajamas, don’t even stop for coffee first thing. By starting with writing right away, I could use my fresh morning brain to its fullest. I could channel all that good brain energy toward writing and not waste it on something less important (and ultimately, less fulfilling), like emails. It took only a couple weeks after that to notice that when I write first thing in the morning, I feel productive and happy for the remainder of the day. On days that I start with emails… well, not so great. I usually feel more distracted, less confident, and just a little more untethered. That is to say, writing in the morning helps me to wrangle the rest of my workday with ease.
As the end of the semester looms and we all look forward to newly available swaths of time, I encourage you to notice your writing, your moods, your behaviors. Notice, don’t judge. And then reflect. Observe what you need to succeed and let those observations lead you to better writing.
