Last year, I received a piece of advice that took my writing to the next level.
To be more precise, I didn’t really receive it; I found it.
If you don’t care about writing, stick around. This advice is equally useful for any activity in life where you are often faced with procrastination, resistance, and distraction.
I am indebted to one of the most prolific authors alive, English fiction writer Neil Gaiman, for this gem of practical wisdom.
[Insert a couple of unnecessary paragraphs, either about Gaiman or about where I was when I found his advice, just to make this essay longer.]
Or not. Because you came here for concrete and actionable advice. And I respect your time.
So let's get straight to it.
Gaiman loves setting up rules for his writing.
One misconception about creatives is that they have no structure and no rules for their creation. People think they are just struck with divine inspiration and then use their God-given talent to transmute that inspiration into something concrete like a painting, a song, or a book. Well, that’s hardly ever the case.
Gaiman’s biggest rule for writing is: When you sit down to write, all that you are allowed to do is absolutely nothing, or write.
You are allowed to stare at your laptop or your notebook. You are allowed to stare at the wall or out the window.
But you are not allowed to take out your phone. You are not allowed to open a new tab on your laptop to check your email while waiting for inspiration to strike. You are not allowed to solve crossword puzzles or play with Yo-Yo.
You are not a machine; it's fine if you are not writing nonstop throughout your writing session. But you are also there to do what needs to be done, and you are not allowed to escape your work through distraction.
What Gaiman loves about this rule is that you are giving yourself permission not to write. But, after a while, writing is more interesting than doing nothing.
What I love about this rule, and why it has been one of the most impactful changes I’ve made in my writing, is that it forces you to be brutally honest with yourself.
When I sit down for my 2-hour writing block, if I follow this rule, there are only two possible outcomes.
I will end up writing as much as I was able to. And no matter how much that is, I will be satisfied with it because I didn’t use any distracting activities to escape the task in front of me.
Or, I will end my writing session feeling that I’ve betrayed myself. Even if I wrote what seems like enough for a 2-hour block, I can’t be truly satisfied knowing that I used some of that time on any activity other than writing. And if what I wrote is especially low in volume or perceived quality, I will simply feel awful.
If you honor the agreement you’ve made with yourself, any work that you produce is honest work, and you have to be satisfied with it. If you betray yourself, you are left knowing that you could’ve done more and better, but you chose not to.
It’s easy to see how this rule translates to any other activity.
Whether it’s studying, doing your taxes, sending that email, or creating your masterpiece, you can approach it in this way. Honor your time, your energy, and the task in front of you.
You are allowed to do absolutely nothing or do what needs to be done. But you are not allowed to do anything else.
Thank you for reading. I hope you find this helpful.
P.S. What will you use this rule for?
Free Resources:
My free ebook: The Lost Art of Reading
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The Art of Showing Up: A Clear and Practical Method for Mastering Consistency
The Gold Pill: Timeless Ideas for a Life Worth Living
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Solid advice (which, as I gingerly return to my Word document, reminds me I shouldn't be here right now)
I think this method applies for working out too.
There’s a commitment to be honoured with yourself.
I tell my self no distractions and no quitting until done.