“The important thing is that there should be a space of time, say four hours a day at the least, when a professional writer doesn’t do anything but write. He doesn’t have to write, and if he doesn’t feel like it, he shouldn’t try. . . . But he is not to do any other thing, not read, write letters, glance at magazines . . . . Two very simple rules, a: you don’t have to write. b: you can’t do anything else. The rest comes of itself.”
How about that, writers? If you were locked in an empty room for four hours with nothing but your w.i.p., you'd write, right? Me too! Off to set up a sensory deprivation writing chamber! Sure, the Remote Writing Cabin sounds much cuter, but maybe not quite so effective. As I recall, people kept putting books and stuff in it, plus which, knowing me, I'd probably hide in the woods all day trying to catch the mysterious woodland visitors in the act of placing hot pies on the doorstep. (I once crouched in the snow for several hours with my camera, trying to get a picture of my cat using the door knocker. I got the shot, and it kills me that it's been lost! Not to mention the cat. Man, she was a smart cat.)
Well, I am back to writingwritingwriting, and I am going to subdue that unruly w.i.p. Make no mistake! Today I am taking my own advice, which is to write some scenes without undue attachment to the outcome, in the spirit of discovery, the goal being to get to know one of my characters better. There's a wall I keep hitting with him, and I realize it's because he's just not *real* yet. So that's what I'm doing today. You?
(Okay, I'm not really setting up a sensory deprivation chamber, but I should.)