Category: mission statement

The Guide to Being a Slow Writer

It’s time for me to confess: I am a slow writer.

I’ve tried to up my word count, to keep track of daily words, to do word sprints. I’ve tried getting up early; I’ve tried staying up later. I’ve tried finding my “peak writing time.” I’ve tried dozens of motivational methods, “productivity hacks,” and the like. But nothing has worked.

I am slow. Some days, I write 150 words. Some days, I don’t write at all. This is mostly due to time and energy. Working, taking care of two small children, and being pregnant with a third child all take their toll on my free time, physical stamina, and mental focus. This isn’t me grouching; it’s simply a fact of life and who I am. Maybe I have an iron deficiency, I dunno. But some days, I’m just not feeling it.

Some days, I can write closer to 2,000 words. When those days come, I’m grateful for them, but I have no idea how they happen or how to replicate them. In fact, I don’t think I’m supposed to replicate them.

Because I’ve come to learn that my creative process is not linear or predictable. Some might say that I need to get more disciplined, or that I need to treat writing like a job. Set the alarm for 5:00 a.m. and write those 1,000 words, dammit. But I already have a job; it’s a necessary evil. I don’t want my writing to become my job. Bradbury said, “Relax, don’t think, work.” Work is awesome; I love to work. I love to work on my blog posts, I love to work on my role-playing campaigns, I love to work on my lesson plans for teaching. Work — the kind that stimulates my heart and imagination — is fun.

But a job? A job is a drag, man. A job is stress. A job is plugging away at something simply because bills got to be paid and if they don’t, we’re living on the streets.

I don’t want writing to be a job; I do my writing to get away from my job.

What I’ve learned about myself over the past few months is that I need to let my imagination stew and ferment and congeal in order to be productive. What does it mean to stew, ferment, and congeal? It means I need to write in my “writer’s notebook” even if what I’m writing about has nothing to do with my Work In Progress (WIP). It means I need to listen to music that gives me goosebumps, or music that challenges me, or music that I’ve never heard before, or music I’ve heard twelve-dozen times. It means I need to spend a day writing a D&D adventure, or making up a character for my FATE campaign, or reading Conan stories. It means I need to go outside and play “Adventure” with my three-year-old instead of squirreling myself away from my family because “Mama needs to work.” It means watching Prisoner of Azkaban because it pumps me up, even though I could be using that time to write.

This isn’t procrastination. Procrastination is screwing around on twitter for three hours a day. Procrastination is not reading the latest SPFBO novel on my kindle, but reading a bunch of dumb political stories online instead. Procrastination is watching Antiques Roadshow all evening when I should really be noodling around in my writer’s notebook.

But listening to evocative music? That’s part of my writing process. Working on a side project? That’s part of my writing process. Doing something every day to stay in contact with my WIP, even if that means just rereading what I wrote yesterday? That’s part of my writing process. If that means it takes me several months to finish a draft instead of four weeks, then so be it. That’s several months of FUN instead of four weeks of hell.

And I’m not one of those writers who hates writing but likes “having written.” I LOVE when I’m actually writing; it’s like the greatest challenge and the biggest natural high all rolled into one. But I don’t love feeling like I have to do it, or that I’m a failure if I don’t do it everyday. I don’t love having a word quota. It looms over every word I write, that damn quota; it casts unforgivable, judgmental glares in my direction. It’s like having a boss leaning over my shoulder and tut-tutting every choice I make. No thanks! I’ll stick with undisciplined and happy, if that’s alright with the rest of you.

And I know there will be writers out there who will challenge this and say I’m just fooling myself. But when I try to set daily quotas, or I try to stick to a certain writing time, when I try to keep pace with other writers who release three or four books a year (or more!), I find myself mired in self-hatred, stagnation, and, ultimately, joyless writing. I don’t want writing to be joyless. I don’t want it to be a source of stress. And, well, maybe that means I won’t be a six-figure author (or even a five-figure one). And I’m okay with that. I don’t want writing to be “just a hobby,” but I’m not going to go against my nature just for the sake of a career.

I suppose this makes me a lousy entrepreneur. I’m okay with that.

I’m also okay with being a slow writer. In fact, I’m more than okay with it. I love it. Writing slow means writing with joy; it means making every moment of my day into a “working on my novel” moment. When I don’t have the obligation to write, I find my mind is more eager to engage with my story even when I’m doing other things.

Can’t manage to find the mental energy to write today? Totally fine. I managed to come up with a cool idea for my story while fixing lunch. Can only manage fifty words on my WIP? Awesome! Those are fifty words I didn’t have yesterday. Noodled around with that mega dungeon I’m stocking for my next RPG session? Excellent. It gave me a chance to be creative while stepping away from my WIP. Hearing a cool song pop up on my iPod (one I haven’t heard in ages)? Love it. That’s inspiration for the next scene I need to write.

When I make storytelling and creativity a seamless, integrated part of my life, I find that writing becomes easier, and that I have less pressure to switch from “writing time” to “other parts of my life” time. They all become the same thing. And by scaling back my goals, by keeping my deadlines modest, I become a happier, less stressed person.

Writing should be fun. And if that means being a slow writer, then I claim that title and wear it proudly.

I am a slow writer. And I love it.

I Will Be Bad at Marketing

In my twenties, I used to belong to a forum called Tolkien Online. This was when the Peter Jackson LOTR movies were going strong. I had read LOTR twice while in college and became a total fangirl. My love for fantasy literature had been rekindled (see my life’s story for more on that).

I loved Tolkien Online. There were vibrant discussions of LOTR movies, intelligent discussions of Tolkien’s books, threads for debates about religion and philosophy, even a thread dedicated to reciting Grateful Dead lyrics. I spent incredible amounts of time on Tolkien Online.

But then college ended, I got more enmeshed in the Classic Movie Blogosphere (not sure if that’s a proper noun or not, but it feels like it should be), and I fell out of the habit of posting to message boards.

Eventually, real adulthood happened (aka, my 30s), and I fell out of the habit of posting comments on my favorite movie blogs too. Basically, I didn’t have time to read a hundred comments a day and write something witty in response to them. I had a job. I had a family. I sorta, kinda, completely stopped being an active online presence in other people’s playgrounds.  (I never gave up blogging, though. That would be absurd.)

But now that I’m getting ready to publish my first book, I feel like I have to drum up some interest for the book on the interwebz. I have to “find my readers” and “gain an audience” and “market,” and I don’t want to be sleazy about it, I don’t want to just pop into some comments section and blab randomly about my book, or post annoying “Look at me!” posts on a forum where I’m a total noob. I want to make myself part of the community. I want to show that I’m not just a saleslady for my product. I want to be genuine.

So I joined two fantasy literature forums (I won’t say which ones). I didn’t post right away. I spent time reading the different threads and getting to know the lay of the land. And every time I came close to posting something, every time I thought that maybe I’d found the place where I wanted to jump in… I didn’t. I’d hit “reply” and get ready to type. And then… nothing.

I started beating myself up about it: You’ve got to get going! Your book is coming out in June! Establish relationships, build an audience! Make yourself part of these online communities! What are you waiting for? Just do it!

And yet, despite my self-badgerings, I still couldn’t do it.

I’m not in my twenties anymore. I’m not the message board gal I used to be.

It’s not where my head is.

It’s not where my voice is.

It’s not that I think message boards suck or anything. For many people, they are still awesome ways to connect.

But they’re just not for me. I can’t explain why, but I just don’t have anything to add to the conversations on these forums.

My blog is enough. I can ramble into the abyss all I want here.

My books are enough. I can express myself and communicate my ideas through them.

I don’t feel the need to be a commenter. I don’t have the drive to belong to a forum.

And I know this is a liability. I know that for a completely unknown author who doesn’t even have anyone reading her blog, I need to get my name out there. And yet… I’m not feeling it.

I’m more than ready to keyword-ninja my way through the Amazon algorithms, and I’m more than ready to pay for advertising. I’m doing Tim Grahl’s pre-launch strategies as best I can. But I don’t think I can be a full-time forum poster. I don’t think I can start reading a dozen blogs again just so I can get my “name” known in the comments.

If this means career suicide, I guess I’m fine with putting my head in the oven.

And the reason is that even if I did force myself to comment and post on different forums, my heart wouldn’t be in it. I’d be faking. I’d be as disingenuous as the sleaze-oids who post about their books on Twitter every five seconds. If I’m gonna go on Twitter, it’s gonna be so I can retweet awesome pictures of old movie stars. It’s not gonna be to hock my books.

Maybe I’ll do more on GoodReads. That feels more like “me.” If nothing else, I’ll try reviewing some books on there (which I’ve been meaning to do since forever).

But whatever I may do in my as-of-yet-non-existent career in self-publishing, I don’t want to be untrue to myself. I can’t fake things.

And if that means I’ll be bad at marketing, so be it.

Maybe I’ll find another way.

Why I changed the blog title

Mostly to align with my twitter. My name is listed as “Jennifer M. Baldwin” on twitter, and my little description is “Fiction Writer. Snappy Dresser. Old Movie Obsessive and Garage Rock Connoisseur. Nerd Queen,” so I added that to the blog as well. Just trying to be consistent across all my platforms, or whatever.

Being a writer

I have always been one. Or at least, I have always remembered being one. I still have notebooks from childhood that contain stories I wrote. I remember composing a story in fifth grade about a drop of water and his adventures spent going down the drain (there was quite an episode involving the blades of the garbage disposal). After an epiphany in 11th grade, I knew I wanted to be a screenwriter and devoted a great deal of time and money to studying screenwriting in college. I even moved to Los Angeles for a brief period in order to pursue my dream (turns out, L.A. is fun to visit, but I didn’t want to live there). My love of movies, however, landed me a few freelance jobs, writing about classic films. I actually received payment for my writing (which, however small it may have been, was still pretty awesome). And despite my swerve into a career in teaching (high school English, yo), I still consider myself a writer. I have always been one and I always will be.

But now I’m doing something different. I’m actually committing myself to the goal of become a fiction author. It’s the thing my fifth grade heart always wanted, but somehow over the past twenty years, I let it slip out of my head. I let other jobs, other goals, other types of writing seep in, but now, finally (and maybe it took starting a family to realize it), finally I’ve decided that I really should do the one thing I’ve always wanted to do: Write books.

So now I’m here — as a way to connect with others, as a way to document my journey, as a way to make sure I stick with it — and hopefully over the next several months, I will go from being a writer who is trying to write a novel to a writer who has written one.

What will follow on this blog are things related to my novel, things related to my writing process, things related to my life, things related to the things I love (mostly, but not limited to: science fiction, fantasy, comic books, new movies, classic movies, Doctor Who, Game of Thrones, theater, folklore and fairy tales, language, J.R.R. Tolkien, Harry Potter, music, theater, and magic). My hope is that this blog will keep me honest. I say I’m a writer; now all I have to do is write.

© 2024 Jennifer M. Baldwin

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