Lost in the Music

I'm counting the cars
on the freeway below
lost in the music ...
- David Usher

For more than a year, I've heard people say that listening to music while trying to concentrate on something (such as studying or writing) is bad, because scientists have proven with multiple studies that multitasking is bad.

And I get where they're coming from. They're right: multitasking *is* bad. When I have to multitask at anything, I don't get nearly as much done as when I'm focused on a single project at once.

But I disagree that listening to music should be counted among that.

I am the eldest of four girls, with a five-plus year gap separating me and the other three. Now married, I live in an apartment and I don't get to choose my neighbours, whether they be screaming children or hard-partying college kids. My entire life has involved finding peace and quiet so I can write. And since I don't live on a farm or in a cabin in the woods or on the lake, away from the bustle of life, I need some way of minimizing distraction. Music helps me do that.

I'm trying to think of a way to explain this. In some places on the Internet, I've tried to explain that I use the music to fortify the part of my brain that deals with interruptions. The sound forms a barrier from *other* sounds that might distract me. The rhythm from the beat plus the melody of the song itself both get me in the groove. I stop listening to the song itself and I get into a zone. The music protects me. Did you know, I wrote the climactic two chapters of SIGN OF THE STAR by listening to Kevin Rudolf ft. Lil Wayne's "Let it Rock" on repeat sixty-eight times?

Now that I really think about it, I realize that what I'm describing is a trance. Hey, if it helps me write, I am perfectly fine with that designation.

A final thought: Several times in the last few months, I have tried writing without music. The fact that I am easily distracted aside, I feel unschooled, unable to concentrate, and way less productive. The only exception to this is (don't laugh) when I'm alone in the woods or it's so late at night, there *are* no distractions.

Even then, there's an iTunes in my head. Earworms? Not really. At this point, if something annoys me I can switch songs.

What I think this all comes down to, though, is the oft-repeated Magical Words mantra: there is no one right way to do this. I shouldn't feel bad if others, even scientists, disagree. This is what works for me. If listening to music while writing doesn't work for you, that's okay; to each their own. The times when I forget this are the times when I am least producive; when I complain, my TOEM writing group laughs and tells me to don my headphones.

Girl, put your records on.

Thank God It's Over (But It's Not)

Thursday marked the first of the month. The sun had set on another NaNoWriMo; we gathered to celebrate our happy exhaustion. Because it was the first of December and for the most part, we had all survived. Today being a Saturday, some of us will gather again, because not everyone can make a weeknight event, given that it's December and all. And the events are called Thank God It's Over, because hey, it's been a wild and crazy journey. It always is.

Battle-weary, we stumble into a restaurant to celebrate our success — because even if we didn't achieve fifty thousand words, we still tried. We put our fingers to the keyboards and together, we wrote.

And next week, some of us will keep writing like this.

We call ourselves The Other Eleven Months, because for us, writing is not something we can simply stop doing, and we like the energy that being in a group can bring. Once a week (or more) throughout Greater Vancouver, we gather for coffee or tea or (if you're a chocoholic like me) cocoa, and we talk about plot points, characters, and ideas. Every so often the conversation wends in the direction of pop culture or current events, and we discuss related topics. But most importantly? We write.

I've heard a lot of arguments against NaNoWriMo. I've heard that it cheapens the craft of writing, that it clogs the mailboxes of agents and publishers, that it is a waste of time, focusing on quantity over quality. I've also heard the unecessarily defensive rebuttles (that it's meant to encourage newcomers to the craft, that it's meant to be something anyone can try once, that "real" writers are participating these days). I don't want to point fingers or dwell on either side because I've heard enough of both sides this past month and a half and anger over this has no place in my life. So I won't.

But I will say what I know.

I know that sometimes, my internal editor is so harsh that I feel frozen at the keyboard.

I know that being forced to focus on quantity rather than quality helped me unfreeze.

I know that the sound of silence and a dozen keyboards is pretty amazing.

I know that this group has been a source of energy and inspiration.

I know that I've regained a new appreciation for the rough draft.

I know that before I joined NaNo, I was scared of rough drafts because rough drafts are, by nature, crap, and I'd somehow convinced myself that I didn't need them.

I know that NaNoWriMo has evolved beyond itself, and that many more writers, both aspiring and published, are taking part.

I know that I can adapt the challenge to my needs, that all that really matters is fifty thousand words of new writing.

I know that our weekly gathering keeps me going even when things are at their worst.

I know that I find laughter and cameraderie and joy in a craft that is, at its heart, a solitary act.

Of course, that's pretty much the point of our group: we don't just write as a novelty one month out of twelve. We write because we want to. Some of us just for fun, some of us to learn, and some of us because we're actively pursuing writing as a career.

Whatever the reason, we write.  And that's what really matters, no matter how you feel about NaNo.

This year, for fun, we had some temporary tattoos made. To celebrate ourselves, we chose a semicolon (a bit of an in-joke), but I think it fits:

(And you wouldn't believe the exhausted discussion we had about font! But it was worth it.)

So like any sane NaNoer, I am thankful the insanity of writing fifty thousand words in a single month is over. But I am also thankful for The Other Eleven Months, because frankly, for me writing is something that can not be contained to a single month. I wouldn't want it to be. And the people I've met and the friendships I've made through TOEM are something I wouldn't give up for the world.

Do you have a group like ours? Let me know in the comments! I would love to hear about more efforts like ours. Community matters.

Writing vs. Talking About Writing

I love the writers communities I belong to: the Compuserve forums, Magical Words, my beta group, the #wipmadness group on Twitter, and the larger #amwriting Twitter community, too. And of course, my TOEM* in-person writing group. I love it because we can chat about different writing issues, celebrate and commiserate, check in with goals, and just plain connect with kindred spirits.

But lately, I've been more aware of how much of my limited writing time I am devoting to actual writing (currently, this includes editing), as opposed to just talking about writing. It can be so joyful to share with other writers, because they *get* what you're talking about, and if you're a storyteller, sharing with others is practically instinctive. But how much time am I spending *talking* about my novel, and how much time am I actually writing it?

I'm not just referring to the pitfall of talking a story to death, where you spend so much time talking about an idea or a story you're working on that you lose the momentum, the energy to work on the story. I'm talking about spending time talking about the craft with other writers, to the point where most "writing time" ends up going to the discussion, instead of to the actual writing (or editing). It feels like going to the gym and standing around chatting, rather than working out which is what you're supposed to be there to do. (Or even like having extended conversations with another person on the treadmill or elliptical. Seriously, if you can talk that much, how much of a workout are you actually getting?)

This is in no way a complaint about writers being social with one another. This could just be me, too. All I'm saying is, as much as I love and am grateful for all of the groups I participate in and the wonderful people I've met because of it, I personally need to recognize when I'm spending way more time talking about writing than actually writing itself.

The irony that this inspired a blog post, which also robs me of "actual" writing time, is not lost on me. But I've noticed that I'm getting itchy about finishing the rewrites on SIGN OF THE STAR, and I think this is worthy of sharing. So, back to work.

* TOEM = The Other Eleven Months. We're an offshoot of the Greater Vancouver NaNoWriMo community, and we meet year-round. I used to refer to it as O11M, but that was such a mouthful, and thanks to member Rob H., I realize that this acronym is *much* more appropriate.