Notebook: completed!

Remember the journal I made ? I used it all up! Every page is filled with either morning pages or chapters of my novel. It's a nice reminder of how much I've been writing lately, and how I finally seem to have found a system that works. I feel like I'm getting a lot of work done, I'm not stressing about it, and it seems to be an organic part of my life as opposed to something I'm constantly worrying about smushing in.

Here's my current system, FYI. If you don't have a routine that's working for you, I hope this inspires you. If you do have a routine that is working for you, please share it in the comments:

* I write morning pages (three, sometimes two, pages of journaling/brain-dumping) on the train ride into work in the morning.

* Two nights a week I either come home or go to a coffee shop and write my novel, longhand in my notebook, for about an hour.

* One of the weekend days, I also devote an hour or two to the novel.

* In these three focused times, I usually get a rough draft of one chapter done. Once it's done, I'll spend another hour or two typing it up, editing as I go.

Assuming I can stick with this routine, I should be able to have a draft done by March--just in time to celebrate during my 10-day trip to Costa Rica!

Tri training and writing

So all this swimming, biking, running, and more swimming has knocked me out of any sort of writing habit. As my triathlon gets very close, I am feeling very frustrated about the fact that I have managed to fit into my weeks an absurd amount of workouts, but I cannot fit regular writing into my life with anywhere near as much intensity. I've thought about why and come up with a few theories:

1-Working out shows fairly immediate results. Within a few weeks, you lose weight, see more muscle, run faster, etc. Writing? Even with the most consistent writing practice, results (in terms of noticeable improvement or getting published) are few and far between.

2-There's much more social support for working out. I have lots of friends who will accompany me to the gym or go out for a run with me. Writing is so solitary--which I love, but which also means there's no peer pressure egging me on, and I can't kill two birds with one stone by writing while I chat with a friend I've been meaning to catch up with.

3- Similarly, there are many more people in my life who will pat me on the (sweaty) back after a workout than there are who will cheer me on for finishing a page of writing.

4-Did I mention the immediacy of results?

All that said, I am *pretty* sure that if I committed more to writing, I would see more results. So, even without the guarantee I wish I could garner from the writing fairy, I am going to commit to a writing routine in August. I'm still working out the kinks of the program, but I'm sure it will be just as grueling--and hopefully satisfying--as the tri training has been.

Must. Start. Writing. Again!!

I haven't written a word in weeks. Nothing in my journal. Nothing on my blog. Nothing in a Word doc. I blame it on moving and simultaneously tying up the loose ends of my thesis.

I'm still living out of boxes, and still feeling out of sorts as I adjust to a new house, commute, life. But the only I'm going to feel better is if I get myself back into some sort of routine regarding exercise, eating, and writing. Yes, writing is as important to my well being as healthy food.

I've taken the first steps. I wrote this post. I bought a new journal yesterday (my old one is packed in one of many boxes). Tomorrow, I'll take the next step and actually write in it. I'm imagining spewing forth on my feelings and thoughts about our move, and some ideas for new stories.

My problem

Part of my problem (see previous post about exhaustion) is that I rebel against myself in the silliest of ways. I know that having a set routine will help me feel less overwhelmed. I know that getting up early, at the same time each morning and doing my morning pages and then meditating before taking Chloe out really helps me get focused. But part of me hates the idea of being so rigid, of making myself do things when I really don't want to. In the same way, my teenage self loves not worrying about making a mess, leaving her clothes in piles in the bathroom or on the bedroom floor, even though the rest of me knows that it makes no sense to do so since I'll eventually have to to pick them up anyway, and in the meantime the mess will stress me out.

So, starting tomorrow, I will set an alarm and actually get out of bed when it goes off. I'll drink my (decaf) coffee while writing and then give myself some meditation time. I'll do this for 7 days. If at the end of those 7 days I don't think the routine is helping me feel more in control, I'll be allowed to revert back to sleeping in and getting ready for work like a mad woman. (Being neater will have to wait. One thing at a time!)