Two Pages a Day and Other Ways to Eat an Elephant
How to keep writing.
I grew up at West Point, small military-slash-college community in Upstate New York next to an even littler town called Highland Falls. I’m thinking of that entire community, especially today — September 11th. In that small town there was a McDonalds, a Chinese Restaurant called Dong Fong, an American pub called Park Cafe, a Dunkin Donuts, and a small ice cream shop, called — get this: The Ice Cream Shoppe. We all made fun of the extra “p” and “e” at the end, as if these silent letters added any additional panache to the otherwise bleak milieu. Right outside of the shop entrance was a big stone wall where my high school friends loitered and smoked clove cigarettes. (Or smoked other, more herbaceous things.) You get the picture. There weren’t a ton of attractions in this small town.
But occasionally there was an Army Football game or big West Point event, and on those weekends, the line could stretch down the block of patrons waiting for their sweet treat. My friend Allison worked at the Shoppe, and one day she told me that the owner kept a sign somewhere near the register reminding his employees to keep their cool. The sign said: How do you eat an elephant? The answer, Allison told me, was: One bite at a time.
What we’re talking about here is self-discipline. A seemingly insurmountable task must be broken into smaller manageable parts. The writer Anne Lamott famously keeps a one-inch picture frame on her desk, a tangible reminder that she doesn’t have to write a whole book, just a small scene or portrait — one inch at a time. My Dad’s greatest and oft-repeated advice was, and remains: “Chip away at it.” Elephants, picture frames, chisels. All of these metaphors serve to remind us that the work is long, and the best way forward is to keep your eyes on the present task at hand.
But how do you do it? How do you eat an elephant, if that particular elephant is a 100,000-word novel, or a 60,000-word self-help book, or a cookbook, or a e-mail newsletter? In other words — how do you keep writing? I’m no expert — but the following are a few important habits that have become essential to my writing life, especially in the years since bringing two young boys into our family. Here they are, in no particular order.
Pick a time and place, and stick to it. As many friends who live in East Nashville know, you can find me at our neighborhood cafe most mornings from 6 am - 9 am. In the summer especially, my husband agreed to keep the kiddos during those hours so I could keep momentum on the book. (Working from home doesn’t work for me when other people are at home.) Now that the boys are in school, I often stay at home, and my hours are 7 - 10 a.m. I don’t do anything else during that time.
Share Sparingly. Many people will encourage you to join writing groups, go to conferences etc. But sharing drafts too early in the process always stymies my progress. (Instead of writing the next scene, I’m reading over whatever I shared with a friend and wondering if they will like it or hate it, whether they like or hate me.) Rather than waste that energy worrying about their response to my work, I’d rather just keep the ball moving forward. Now, I only to let others read my work when I am ready to take a writing pause. Otherwise, sharing is a momentum-killer.
Don’t Look Back. Speaking of momentum killers, I wrote BEYOND THE POINT on a piece of software called “Scrivener” which I have grown to hate. The software is ingenious because you can bop around from beginning to end and back again with just a tap of the mouse. It’s highly searchable and pieces can be moved in and out and back again. The result, unfortunately, is that I can spend entirely too much time playing with what I’ve written, without actually writing forward. It’s the literary equivalent of quicksand.
Print (and Count) Your Pages. Dani Shapiro gave me a piece of advice this year that helped break me out of the backward-looking-tinkering-rewrite-the-first-chapter-a-hundred-times bad habit. I had written about 200 pages of a draft manuscript that was in shambles in that dreaded Scrivener app. She said to print it out and start over, and write from the beginning again and to keep printing my pages every day so I could see the new draft growing. I followed her advice, and kept a little running tally of my page count — and that in and of itself became very motivating.
Embrace Meaningful Waste. Writers should expect progress to be slow, halting, and hard won. That’s the job. And even if you’re “writing forward” sometimes you write stuff that just isn’t going to make the final cut. C.S. Lewis said, “We all want progress, but if you're on the wrong road, progress means doing an about-turn and walking back to the right road; in that case, the man who turns back soonest is the most progressive.” When I re-started my draft, I created a “cut” document where I put renegade paragraphs that I write and removed, when I knew they didn’t fit. That “Cut” document currently has 22,953 words of unused prose. Fun times. I’m aware that those pieces might end up in new places. Or not. You have to be willing to lose words. Stepping back can be a step forward.
Say “No” to Birthday Parties. Being an adult means learning to say “no” — not just to the things you don’t want to do, but also, to things you do want to do. For me, that has often meant missing out on morning coffee dates, exercise, sleep, and yes — birthday parties. (Like I said, I can’t do anything from 7 - 10 a.m.) And weekends, especially, are important time for our family and it’s becoming increasingly clear that it’s just too easy to give that precious time away, only to arrive on Monday completely depleted with nothing in the tank for the page. Another great one-liner from Anne Lamott: No is a complete sentence.
Two Pages a Day. I’ve been working on this new draft for about three years. Recently, I did some math and realized that if I write two pages every week day for the next few months, then I will reach my word-count goal and finish my manuscript draft by November. That suddenly felt very, very possible. A target within reach. Keep in mind: I only reached this point through a lot of false starts, and a lot of waste, and a lot of backward movement. But I’ve reached this point, and the two-page a day minimum feels exceptionally feasible.
Eyes on Your own Paper. You are in writing mode. Other people are in publishing mode. It’s none of your business.
Develop A Non-Adversarial Relationship with Time. Time is not your enemy. It’s easy to feel resentful of the clock when you look down and realize that you’re no closer to finishing your book today than you were yesterday. But resentment will only bleed into other areas and other relationships. Instead, I find that it is helpful to take a 20- or even 30-year perspective when it comes to thinking about my work. Zoom out, and suddenly, it’s not so scary. I am trying to make something good and lasting and true. No wonder it’s going to take time.
There is plenty you can do to hinder the process — but there is nothing you can do to rush the process.
Jesus says: “Who of you, by worrying, can add a single hour to your life?”
The Ice Cream Shoppe says: “One Bite at a Time.”
Anne Lamott says: '“Bird by Bird.”
My Dad says: “Chip away at it.”
And trust that someday — soon and very soon — you will get to the moment in which you type those two, all important words.
The End.
A view from a quick trip to Missouri last week.
Recent Favorites
Purchase — TheraIce Head Wrap. This thing is amazing for headaches and puffy eyes for persistent criers like me. A good stocking stuffer for the stressed-out peeps in your life.
Book — Tom Lake by Ann Patchett. A family sequestered together during the pandemic on the family cherry orchard in northern Michigan revisits old family lore, and the matriarch’s brief love affair with a Hollywood celebrity. (I do, however, agree with The NY Times assessment of Pallace, the book’s sole Black character, “whose integration into the theatrical utopia seems a tad too easy.”) Normally, Patchett’s writing leaves me feeling cold and a bit doomed. This book was heartwarming and charming. A very enjoyable read.
Listen — Julia Louis Dreyfus “Wiser Than Me.” In her new podcast, Actress Julia Louis Dreyfus interviews older women about their lives, careers, and the wisdom they’ve gained along the way. This series is a welcome reprieve from the often male-heavy content at some of my other favorite podcasts. (Looking at you, Smartless.) Start with the episode featuring Amy Tan.
One More Thing…
I’ve written other posts about writing. Like How to Get Started. And How Frustrating it Can All Be. And How Sirenland Writers Conference Went for Me. And if you need more content like that — I would point you toward Jonathan Rogers and Maggie Smith and George Saunders and Elissa Altman.
But I DO want to ask you a favor. Would you take a moment and answer the following poll? As I work toward making this newsletter a more sustainable part of my work, I’d like to have your feedback!
