I am guilty of wanting to optimize nearly all facets of my life for efficiency, something I think we’re all programmed to want, a reminder of how fleeting time is, how maximizing profit involves some kind of math, some kind of algorithmic equation.
But in this search for optimization, we (I) get so hung up on perfection, on this idea that to reach a certain output, we need x, y and z, and x must be 8 hours of sleep, y a healthy diet and body, z, a wrist brace or optimal internet connection or the right temperature or comfortable athleisure.
“DON’T LET YOUR WRITING PROCESS GET PRECIOUS” novelist Delilah S. Dawson wrote on Twitter last year, part of a thread I only recently came across after doing a “tips for writing” search, something I do often just to—lol—see how else I can best optimize my work.
“You don’t want to get too caught up in a ritual,” she wrote. “at this time, drinking this coffee, in this chair. Make it so that you can write anywhere, laptop or pad. Keep your process nimble, not rigid.”
This was the best tip I’ve received in ages. Recently, as I documented here in my shit-day post, I complained that my health got in the way of my ritualized writing process—my typical 5 a.m. start, a cup of black tea, some light journaling in my favorite coffee shop with my favorite pen, seated in my favorite seat, followed by a brisk walk in the park and evening writing at my home office standing desk.
I needed the break, of course. I was ill and recovering, still am. And I’m also aware that certain lifestyle changes need to be made to prevent this nerve injury from creeping back. But the incident also made me realize I can’t be so reliant on ritual. Ritual is helpful to build habit. But the act of writing itself has to be my ritual, x/y/z be damned.
My goal: I’ll be changing things up and writing from more uncomfortable places to challenge myself. Sometimes I’ll type on my phone, which I absolutely hate doing. I’ll try blotting on the back of a napkin, in the park without internet, waiting in line for a show. Wherever I can, however cold or hot the weather is or uncomfortable my shoes are, I’ll write. Here’s to being more nimble.
—fiza
Love this