I'm not sure what good it does to figure out the secrets of writing. I can't seem to make use of them.
Ritual, I discovered long ago, is one of the secrets of writing. Routine. Rhythm. Getting up at the same time each day, putting in a few hours before starting the rest of the day, getting to bed on time, and then getting up and doing it again. And again. And again. Habituate a practice, and it happens.
Even within the writing session, rituals help. Cue music. Fill water glass. Brew coffee. Close door. Shut down email and web browser. Open research log to see where I've been, where I'm going. Then . . . begin. Draft or sketch notes for 20-30 minutes, whatever else I do, and always end a session by recording what I need to do next.
There was a time when my writing ritual even included a raunchy leather hat from Fetla's.
Problem is, I have a hard time maintaining rituals. And when once my routine gets disrupted, it's hard to return to form. It sometimes takes weeks. I traveled to Amarillo and Reno, NV this past month and all routines fell apart. Lately, maintaining any kind of routine seems particularly hard, maybe because of the general chaos that my personal and work lives are in.
In any case, the challenge isn't the book project itself, but maintaining the habits, the form, that will carve out the time in which the book can finally unfold. So today, I'm starting all over again. Again. Sigh. But despite my apostasy, the routine welcomes me back, nonetheless. I am comforted.
. . . . . . . .
To help think about ritual, I went to Flickr, searched on the word Ritual, and took a fascinating tour of others' rituals. Here's just one, by 3amfromkyoto's photostream:
