The usual advice to writers is that you should write every day. “Writing is like a muscle”, they say. You have to constantly exercise it every day to make it stronger. But anyone who does exercise knows this isn’t strictly true. Yes, you have to keep working but you also need to have rest days… otherwise you injure yourself. Who the heck wants a job that demands seven days a week of your time anyway?
I don’t write every day and I don’t aspire to. I’m fortunate to be able to spend at least two to four hours most days working on my novel but the ‘most days’ bit is important. Life has a tendency to happen around us and the idea of being able write every single day without fail is a bit unrealistic for most people. I don’t want to feel that a day I haven’t written is in some way a failure. And I certainly don’t want to resent those things that divert me from my latest project – you know like fun times out, family get togethers and all the other stuff that keeps us connected to the world.
I do feel that my creativity needs a rest every now and then to recuperate. After the rest, I come back feeling refreshed and full of enthusiasm to start working again. And just because I’m not sat at my laptop putting words on the page doesn’t mean I’m not working on the project, far from it. My mind is constantly working on characters, plot developments and all those little wrinkles that need to be teased out of the story to make it the very best it can be.
Four, five, maybe six days a week is fine by me. I still get those words down and don’t get to miss out on life. That’s important because I believe that all stories are ultimately about characters living their lives and if your only life experience is one of isolation at a keyboard, that’ll reflect in your writing.
I’d love to hear what you think. Are you an ‘everydayer’ or are you a bit more relaxed in your approach?
Cheers
Rik
You’re right, and sometimes life says no writing is possible for a while and you have to cut yourself some slack.
Precisely. Thanks for reading and commenting.