Graze vs. Devour – What’s Your Writing Style?
I too am back at work full-time and find that I don’t have large blocks of time (when I’m not exhausted) to write or exercise or garden or read. However, I am figuring out I do have many small bits of time that I can use. As I written here before I lost weight over a year ago and in my efforts to keep it off, I am packing my lunch and grazing on it over a few hours rather than eating it all at once. It’s working.
I usually bus in and get off a few stops early so I can get in a 10-minute walk before work. Then I take a 10- or 20-minute walk (or yoga break) at lunch and a 10- or 20-minute walk on the way home and voila! Exercise is done.
Just this week, I started doing the same with writing. I’ve always been someone who thought I needed several hours at once to get any writing done, but now I’m finding that I can apply the same grazing philosophy (10 or 20 minutes in the morning and at lunch, etc.) and I can slowly but surely get some work done.
After reading this, I was jealous and frustrated. In my head, I’m not a grazer. I long for those large blocks of time during which I can delve into a project and really concentrate. But I rarely get them, and then I find myself having produced nothing because my number one writer’s excuse is, “I don’t have time to write. I need languorous afternoons filled with undisturbed time.” My husband is always telling me, “You are rarely going to have hours to yourself to write. Why not use those 20 minutes here and there to work?”
There have never been truer words. Next year, my youngest goes to first grade. In theory, I will have seven hours every weekday while both kids are in school. In reality, these hours will be filled with meetings, other work related tasks, errands, and life. In an effort to be prepared and hit the ground running in August, I’ve been analyzing my calendar. It appears that dear husband is right. I will rarely have large blocks of time.
Efficiency experts tell you it’s about working smarter, not harder. Working smarter for me means having a grasp on which tasks are grazing tasks and which tasks require devouring. Here’s what I’ve found:
Grazing Tasks—For which I tap into my inner sheep and chomp away little by little
- If I’m halfway through a scene and I’m loving it, (For a first draft “loving” is a relative term. It might mean that I have one or two lines I think are decent and the action is moving in the right direction.) I can usually graze through the middle section. I know the characters, I know the voice, I know the plan for the scene. I can write the remainder in small chunks of 15 minutes here and 20 minutes there.
- If I’m writing non-fiction, I can graze through the middle of a short article. Openings and conclusions are too brain-intensive to be grazing tasks.
- Outlining, research, planning are all grazing tasks.
- Editing is a great grazing task. Especially line editing for punctuation, grammar and spelling. Word-by-word editing also fits the bill. It’s exhausting to spend extended periods of time re-working sentence after sentence for stronger verbs and more precise description. I usually take a few sentences for the road and mull them over while driving or exercising.
Devouring Tasks—For which I tap into my inner wolf and sit down to devour a full carcass at once
- Beginnings and endings. Whether it is the beginning of an entire novel, the first sentence of a new scene or the opening paragraph of an article, openings and closings require more dedicated brain power. I find that I often have to ramble my way into an opening. The first 3-4 paragraphs of new work (fiction or non-fiction) are usually thick and muddled (and end up in the outtakes file) but serve as a bridge to get me to the “true” opening.
- Action scenes. Drafting an action scene requires undivided attention for me. I’m a wordy writer and an even wordier drafter. Skimming the fat to produce a tight action scene is challenging for me. For this reason, these scenes need devouring time – no grazing allowed.
- Fleshing out a scene which stems from one great line. I often have lines (particularly of dialogue) and images that come to me at inopportune times. Doing dishes is a prime time for this. I jot them in my notebook, transfer them to my “Must Have Lines” page in Microsoft OneNote, and let them simmer. These lines are usually something around which I can build a scene. But then I get performance anxiety. I love the line or the dialogue exchange. I don’t want to write a crappy scene that doesn’t do justice to the dishwashing gem. This is when I need long blocks of time to dig and devour the scene instead of grazing through filler.
I will still always dream of a cabin in the woods with an endless supply of coffee, firewood and peaceful time to write. But I’m a mom, a wife, and a writer—not a hermit. The list above certainly isn’t going to solve the not-enough-hours-in-the-day dilemma, but it might help me use those hours more effectively. And who knows, maybe I’m really a sheep in wolf’s clothing and can successfully graze my way through a manuscript after all.
What about you? Are you a successful grazer? What tasks work the best for you as grazing tasks? Or do you need space to devour your writing?