Write More
The Lesser of Three Evils Method
You want to write more. Well, I want to read more, so I want you to write more. In fact, I want you to want to write more. Perhaps the following methodology will move the needle, perhaps not. Yet, as someone pursuant of the writing life, the very chance of perhaps should be enough to continue.
In any case, the purpose of this essay was to serve as a call to action, not a call to further deliberation. So, I will end this preamble here.
The Evil Method
1. Desk, paper, pen.
2. Set the clock for thirty minutes.
3. Write.
That is the behavioral mantra of many successful writers; the method to their madness, which I have (strictly for the purposes of this essay) christened “evil.” The minutes may vary; some writers prefer twenty minutes, some writers prefer forty-five. At the end of the day, however—however evilly—the method works.
Ernst Hemingway, Aldous Huxley, T. S. Eliot… Need I go on?
It worked for someone yesterday. It’s working for someone else today. It’ll work for someone new tomorrow. It does not work for everyone, however.
Me, for example.
Write down whatever floats through your stream of consciousness, so goes the philosophy, the postmortem will reveal some wheat amidst the chaff. For me, however, the thought of writing nonstop for thirty minutes, let alone the thought of writing chaff for twenty-five of those minutes, always seemed a little wasteful, a little ungraceful.
“To read without reflecting is like eating without digesting,” wrote Edmund Burke. Why should writing be any different?
If this strikes a chord, you and I are not alone. For despite the many disciples, the evil method has a number of notable defectors—legendary comedian Jerry Seinfeld amongst them.
Which brings us to:
The Lesser of Two Evils Method
1. Desk, pen, paper.
2. Set the clock for thirty minutes.
3. Write or do nothing.
By adding (quite literally) nothing, Seinfeld enlisted a powerful new ally in the war on white paper. No longer reliant on the pull factor of creativity alone, Seinfeld could lean on the push factor of boredom to do some of the heavy lifting. Hunger is the best sauce; boredom, the best spur.
The genius behind the lesser of two evils method stems from a contradiction that sits at the heart of human nature: the relativity of satisfaction. No one likes being told what to do, even if one wants to do it.
Even if we have no intention of choosing Option B: Nothing, we prefer to have Option B. In fact, when Option B is there, our preference for Option A: Writing grows even greater.
It is rather like the flipside of FOMO: for one is not fearful of missing out on something better, but grateful to be getting out of something worse. All of which got me to thinking… What would happen if one added an Option C?
At which point, we arrive at:
The Lesser of Three Evils Method
1. Desk, pen, paper, book.
2. Set the clock for thirty minutes.
3. Write or do nothing or finally read the fucking thing.
In our attention(-deficit) economy, one of the few things harder than writing something decent is reading something dense. There are books we do not want to read, but know we should; books we do want to read, but never get around to. Indeed, War and Peace jokes are as old as Tolstoy himself.
Sidelining Option B: Nothing, for reasons of human nature, two net positive scenarios remain.
Worst case scenario (Option C: Reading): after thirty minutes, you come away having read something you were not sure you would.
Best case scenario (Option A: Writing): after thirty minutes, you come away having written something you were not sure you could.
It is not the author nor the title, but the presence of the book that matters; an extra stick to sweeten the carrot. And on those days when the words are unforthcoming, and I feel myself in danger of abandoning my post, whether for a meaningless walk or another needless espresso, I have found that a book by my right hand is often enough to keep at the desk.
Invariably, the moment I give myself permission to read, I feel the urge to pick up the pen. Human nature strikes again.
It’s striking right now.