by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell
My favorite philosopher/comedian is Steven Wright, master of the pithy weird-but-somehow-connected observation, such as, “I used to work in a fire hydrant factory. You couldn’t park anywhere near the place.”
He also invented a microwave fireplace. “You can lie down in front of a fire for the evening in two minutes.” (He also put instant coffee in a microwave and almost went back in time.)
Which reminds me that we are all pressed for time these days (I’ve determined to work 25 hours a day on my book, which means I have to get up an hour earlier).
This goes for keeping the ol’ bod in shape. Which is why I’m into HIIT. That stands for “high impact interval training.” It’s a workout that alternates intense bursts of activity (sometimes as little as 30 seconds) with a short rest, then another burst, rest, etc. This way, so “they” say, you can get great cardio benefits in as little as four minutes. Which beats driving to a gym, waiting for a machine, working out for thirty or forty minutes, showering, getting dressed, and driving home while thinking, “Where has the day gone?”
I’ve integrated HIIT into my routine, along with strength training on an official Chuck Norris Total Gym. I want to be like Chuck. When he does a pushup, he does not actually push himself up; he pushes the Earth down.
I thought about this the other day when I was quota challenged. I needed words and needed them fast, but I was tied up with my inner editor, the pest, and indulging in too much thinking and strategizing. This wasn’t about my outline, with my signpost scenes. It was about those spaces in between, in the scenes, that were giving me pause.
Frustrated, I opened up a blank text note and just started writing without thinking, typing to oil the gears, writing (in Ray Bradbury’s phrase) by jumping off a cliff and growing wings on the way down.
What happened was the first few lines came along, but without much meat on them. Then the wings started to form. I was writing in flow, flapping wildly, and the words were coming from that magical place just beneath the surface. As I wrote I didn’t stop to analyze; I just felt the rich vein of story I’d tapped into and wanted to record it as fast as I could.
When I stopped I checked to see how many words I’d written. I kid you not, it was exactly 250. If you’ve read my craft articles long enough, you’ve probably run into my idea of “The Nifty 250” (sometimes enlarged to 350). I like to do that early in the morning, to get a jump on the writing day. But it also works when you’re well into the day and feel stuck.
That gave me the idea for HIIW—high impact interval writing. Why not do this all the time? Why not work in increments of 250 words? Write them, get up, walk around, deep breathe, stretch, sit back down, analyze, and integrate the good stuff into your draft. Then do it again.
This is a bit like the Pomodoro Technique, developed by entrepreneur Francesco Cirillo when he was a university student.
Cirillo recognized that time could be turned into an ally, rather than a source of anxiety. The Pomodoro Technique essentially trains people to focus on tasks better by limiting the length of time they attempt to maintain that focus and ensuring restorative breaks from the effort. The method also helps them overcome their tendencies to procrastinate or multitask, both of which are known to impair productivity.
Try this next time you’re stuck:
- Open up a blank document. (This gives you total freedom to write)
- Start writing, and let it flow, forgetting about trying to shape into anything. Get the words down fast and furious. Go for 250 words (that’s about one page, double spaced, 12 pt. type).
- Get up, stretch, take a deep breath, pour yourself some more coffee or tea, then look at what you wrote.
- Highlight the gold nuggets and expand on them if you like.
- Copy-paste the nuggets into your draft.
I’m mostly an old school, butt-in-chair writer. If I’m going good, even after meeting my quota I’ll keep on writing until I sense the beginning of diminishing returns. With HIIW, I’ve found the words come faster and fresher. As the great Ray put it:
“This afternoon, burn down the house. Tomorrow, pour cold critical water upon the simmering coals. Time enough to think and cut and rewrite tomorrow. But today—explode—fly apart—disintegrate! … It doesn’t have to be a big fire. A small blaze, candlelight perhaps…Look for the little loves, find and shape the bitternesses. Savor them in your mouth, try them on your typewriter.” — Ray Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing
What kind of writer are you? Sit down and grind it out? Write when you feel like it? Or something in between?
Funny this is the topic today. As I write this, it’s still Saturday, and today I attended the Anthology Writers Conference in the Phoenix metro area (I think their first ever) and one of their sessions was “Writing with a Day Job & Other Interruptions”. So several techniques came up including Pomodoro, switching gears and writing long-hand, etc.
While I don’t recall hearing any new concepts during the discussion, one thing that I thought was interesting was that regardless of the commenter’s personal situation (i.e. work full-time, raising kids full-time, etc etc) I don’t recall hearing a single person say that they wrote in great chunks of time. So in a somewhat sad way, I was reassured that I wasn’t the only one in that struggle.
10 or more years ago, I could write in long chunks of time — meaning say 2-3 hours at a time (not counting bathroom or water breaks). But those days are long gone – and in the last few years focus & concentration has become even more of a premium. I don’t write every day, but when I do it’s definitely in chunks of 30 minutes or less. Writing longer than that in a sitting is very rare. Writing in short bursts and switching gears and writing long-hand are my 2 go-to means of getting the story down on the page.
I may not make progress as fast as I’d like, but at least I’m making progress.
And progress is the main thing, no matter how much “chunk.”
I’ve never done longhand drafting. Maybe because I always had lousy handwriting. And I blanch at taking that extra step of retyping. But I do like mind-mapping on blank pages. I should do more of that.
Yes, it’s another time drain to type up hand written notes. However, I also find that when typing up handwritten notes, it seems to lend itself to further brainstorming and ideas for the story.
I do both. When I’m in the zone, I can write between 3,000 – 5,000 words a day. In the last week, though, I’ve been stuck in the middle of the novel – as you said, ‘too much thinking.’ The short bursts are what I use to break through the wall.
(I’m also a fan of HIIT) It is 3:30 AM and I woke up with the thought, “what am I going to do with this stupid novel?” So today I shall open up that blank document and start writing.
Ha! That’s a question most writers ask themselves. It usually occurs to me around 30k words. There’s always an answer, just maybe not an instant one.
I’m the tortoise, plodding along, slow and steady. I always have lots of different projects going so if I get stuck, I work on something else—edits for a client, an article or blogpost, or even (gasp!) marketing.
A walk has long been the best way for me to unstick a stalled brain. Gets the muscles and blood moving, increases oxygen to the brain, give the subconscious an opportunity to pop up a new idea through the sludge.
While I’m walking, I don’t necessarily think about the problem at hand. In fact, sometimes it’s better to focus on something entirely different, esp. sensory input like sight, sound, smells, how my face feels in the sun (or snow), etc.
Pretty soon, whatever is needed pops into my head—a snappy comeback in dialogue, what action the character should do next, a transition to a new topic, a better way to phrase a sentence, etc.
It’s conditioning, like taking the dog for a walk. It knows it’s time to do its business and it does. When I take my subconscious for a walk, it knows it’s free to go to work.
One hundred percent of the time, I come back to the computer with a solution.
I use that same “back and forth” between projects, Debbie. I call it “The Asimov Method,” because that’s what he’d do. He had several typewriters in his apartment and could get up from a story, stretch, and walk over to work on one of his nonfiction projects. 500 plus books this way!
Thanks, Jim! I remember some of this great stuff from over the years, but this is a great refresher. (And a kick in the pants…)
I’m a grinder. But I’d like to try HIIW. Maybe I’ll build Andean Condor wings on the way down–largest buzzard-type bird in the world. Average wing span of 10-11 feet!
Talk about soaring! 🙂
Happy Sunday everyone!
I like the condor metaphor, Deb. Fly!
I tend to procrastinate, so that means I have to write in long chunks of time. I also write to word count and so I like to get that nifty 250 before breakfast. Makes the day go so much better.
The speed of production is directly proportional to the length of time before the deadline…
I’ve mostly been a sit-down-and-grind-it-out sort of writer, Jim. I have done writing sprints when I’m facing a looming deadline, and they’ve worked wonders. The sprints were usually timed in classic Pomodoro fashion–20-30 minutes. If I were really under the gun, I might go for 40-60 minutes before a break, but shorter was better for me.
I’ve done free writing on a novel when stuck before–I like your HIIW version–focused, with a nice cycle to it. I could even see writing a book this way, in a two-step-fast draft-mine for material, rinse and repeat. I’m not sure I would, but I could see doing so.
I took an intense eight-week fiction writing class back in 2008. The core principle was daily practice between the four-hour Sunday class sessions. Each week we would practice a different aspect of writing craft, such as character in conflict in scene.
Practice had two components: a conscious one where we’d sketch out (for example) what the character wanted, what opposed the character etc–all in fifteen minutes. Then we’d have another 15 minute session where we wrote the practice topic, took three random story prompts, wrote those below, and then wrote as fast as we could for fifteen minutes. The idea was to internalize a craft component, essentially training your subconscious.
Your HIIW is also working with the subconscious. Of course, we always do, but not necessarily in such a focused manner. So, I could see even when I’m not stuck–writing goal for scene such as “finds new clue,” “tries to convince Harry to help” and then hitting the HIIW a few times until the scene is written, mining after each 250 words, as you detailed.
Maybe it’s just a crazy thought, but I like the crazy thought 🙂
Any rate, thanks for another keeper of a post!
Crazy like a fox, Dale. I like it!
I love your idea of HIIW writing! I’m juggling so many tasks these days that I need a way to divide my time into segments so I can completely focus on one thing at a time.
Recently I read an article—can’t remember where—about writing in 25-minute intervals and taking a 5-minute break in between. (I think they referenced the Pomodoro technique in the article.) A couple of months ago, I started using that method. I set the timer on my phone to 25 minutes and go at it. The thing that surprised me was how much I could accomplish in that time.
There really is something to that, Kay. When I was with a big law firm, it was get there early, grind, 1 hr. lunch (sometimes working at desk), grind some more, even on Saturday. The old Protestant work ethic we were raised on. The idea of constant interval “rest” periods would have been thought eccentric back then. Not so now.
“I needed words and I needed them fast.”
Don’t know why but that cracked me up. Maybe because I’ve been watching a lot of Eddie Mueller’s Noir Alley.
Yes! Eddie is man…and yes, noir is in my veins!
I was a syndicated newspaper columnist, Jim, and could not afford the luxury of waiting for my muse. My muse was bald, bad-tempered, smoked cigars, and threatened to have me cover flower shows in the burbs if I missed a deadline. I learned to sit down and write. I’ve tried to keep that training, though I may take time off to pet the cat and throw in a load of laundry.
That is one results-oriented muse! Love it, Elaine. 👍
I was a newspaper reporter writing on deadline for 10 years and then wrote “around” a full-time PR job while raising 2 kids and being a wife for 20 years so I’m all about sitting down, fingers on the keyboard, go. No messing around. I try not to fixate on word counts, but rather on writing scenes. I start by cleaning up the last scene I wrote, which gets the juices flowing, and then I move on to the new one. On a good day I might write 3,000 words between 8:30 a.m. and 4 p.m. with an hour for lunch and time spent returning emails & marketing tasks.
Seems like the newspaper folk around here are the ones who can really get it done when they need to. There was a time in the 90s when I was writingng the content for, and editing and publishing two professional newsletters. I guess I learned how to keep myself on task, too.