Writing Without
As a way to get better at posting things on this blog, and writing in general, I thought I’d make my way through a book of writing exercises I found a year or two (or three) ago at my favorite San Francisco bookstore, Community Thrift.*
It appeared to be the perfect fit as I pictured it. I know this blog needs more structure and/or consistency if I want to get better at writing (and I do). Maybe a blogging genius could get away with producing twelve “pieces” a year, but I need a little more quantity to set the stage for a shot at quality. And using this book as a map throughout the year looked like the key. There are 50 exercises in it, setting me up nicely to do one a week and finish at the close of 2022 with two weeks’ worth of wiggle room built in, for flexibility.
Plus, the book is called “Writing Without the Muse,” so I could call the whole series “Writing Without the Me,” because I still like jokes. Perfect!
Before Comedy
After Comedy
It all seemed to line up just right. So I decided to make it one of the handful of New Year’s resolutions I made for 2022. One post a week from the book. An easy goal to write down in my journal. Easier still to tell anyone who asked, especially when you consider only one person asked me. But then I looked at them. Well, first, I read the intro. And that’s when I began to realize I confused “writing exercises” for “writing prompts.”
These are not the “imagine you’re this and you’re doing that; now describe the scene and how that feels” type of thing I was imagining. Some of them are, but then others are like “go to a crowded place and eavesdrop on strangers,” which would/will be difficult enough for me, even if you don’t take the pandemic into consideration (and I consider it often!). Some require a lot of extra mental work or research, like interviewing an interesting friend. And a few of the exercises are actually just habits that you might want to try, like keeping a dream journal or finding a writing partner. They’re all a lot more involved than I had assumed. Which is all fine. I’m not saying it’s bad. Truthfully, a lot of it sounds cool. It’s just not what I thought I was getting into. It’s not the “sit down and write about X,” vibe I was counting on to help me get more short fun posts onto this website.
And it’s my fault for assuming it was a different book. All my fault! And I didn’t check my assumption because I wanted to go in “fresh.” So when developing this little plan, this scheme, I didn’t read anything inside the book, including the introduction, which is too bad, because it turns out the introductions of books are wonderful introductions to books. She also recommends skipping around and choosing which exercises appeal to you, and repeating ones that you like, as many times as you find useful.
So I don’t know. I don’t know if it makes sense for me to do this. I can’t really do it the mindless way I planned, but I could do a modified version of it. Doing it weekly, even if I’m not plowing through the book in a direct line, would still have the same potential benefits I’m looking for: learn how to write more, keep on a schedule, work to a deadline, and let stuff go “to the publisher” even when I want to keep tweaking it.
So yeah, sure. I may fail and/or this could somehow be a disaster. But that was always true. And just because it feels like it’s more true now, doesn’t mean it is more true now. And since there is no better option that occurs to me, it’s either try it this way or give up. So, well, I think you can figure out which one I chose.
*A joke! My favorite bookstore in this city is obviously the San Francisco Public Library. They’ve got a great return policy!
