As a kid, even though I primarily saw myself as a writer, I enjoyed and practiced several other art forms.
I drew constantly, learning mostly from experimentation and watching my more skilled peers.
I sang, with periodic instruction from a vocal coach but mostly just practiced singing while doing household chores.
I learned the basics of reading music and playing a few instruments.
I acted in scripted school productions, and also on my school’s improv team.
I participated in other more technical theatre arts, such as lighting and set design.
I learned knitting, crochet, and embroidery.
I cooked and baked, learning from a combination of helping parents/ grandparents and then eventually reading and practicing on my own.
Entering into adulthood, I had less time (and energy). Because writing was the most important to me, all of my other arts dropped to the wayside so I could spend my creative energy on becoming a better writer. (I did keep cooking/ baking though, because that was “practical.”) Now that I have the luxury of writing and editing as my full-time job, I have the enviable problem of needing to find new hobbies. My former leisure activities (reading and watching TV) don’t always feel restful now that I’m a professional story nerd and I sometimes need a break from narratives entirely.
So, I’ve been exploring music and drawing again. In the process, I’ve noticed some things about how other types of artists approach their craft, that might help us writers to torture ourselves a little less. (Not that other types of artists don’t torture themselves with imposter syndrome, perfectionism, and burnout.)
Low Stakes Practice: Sketches, Scales, and Games
As a teenager, I wrote, drew, and sang pretty much every day. The vast majority of what I did wasn’t something anyone would ever see, but the daily practice helped me improve my skills so that the stories, drawings, and songs I did choose to show publicly were much more developed. It also meant the stakes for any writing, drawing, or singing I did were pretty low because it was mostly for practice or my own enjoyment.
Fast forward to adulthood where I felt the pressure to focus on creating professional quality work. (As in: good enough that someone would pay me for it.) I stopped doing the one-off exercises I used to do in creative writing classes. I reduced how often I wrote scenes that weren’t for my Work in Progress. Suddenly, all of my writing had become very high stakes because I told myself anything that didn’t result in a finished book was a “waste.” I’ve written hundreds (maybe thousands) of pages that no one will ever see – and none of it was a waste of time.
It was all practice.
I realized this when I started drawing and attempting to play music again. Artists have to practice drawing shapes and lines over and over again in order to create more complex figures. Musicians have to practice scales and learn to play other people’s compositions before they can compose their own. Actors play improv games and practice elocution. An artist shouldn’t expect every line they ever draw to end up in a finished painting. A musician shouldn’t expect every note they play to end up in a completed album. An actor shouldn’t expect only to perform in front of an audience.
So why do writers put pressure on every scene we write to be ready for prime time?
I talked about this with my friend Alyssa Pfingst when they came onto my podcast last week. They suggested the frankly brilliant idea that writers need a sketchbook. There is value in doing writing prompts, writing exercises, or even drafting scenes and stories that have nothing to do with your primary work-in-progress and may not ever be read by an audience. It’s low stakes practice – like playing piano scales – that will help strengthen the skills you need to complete your novel.
Action Item
Get yourself a writer’s “sketchbook.” This can be a fun physical notebook. Mine is a computer folder called “The Sandbox.” Periodically, take a break from your work-in-progress to have some play time or practice a skill you’ve been struggling with in a landscape that isn’t your WIP. Write fan-fiction. Write fan-fiction about your own characters – a favorite exercise of mine. Maybe something you develop in the sandbox will go somewhere, maybe it won’t. You don’t have to show it to anyone and it doesn’t have to be good. It’s practice.
Collaboration and Community
Music and theatre are naturally collaborative art forms. Writing is often – but not always – a more solidary medium. To the extent that conventional wisdom encourages writers to seek the help of other writers, it’s usually just for the purpose of giving and receiving feedback. Feedback is important, but it isn’t the only reason to seek relationships with other writers. Musicians get to jam with each other. Actors get to riff off their scene partners. Writers deserve other types of community and collaboration too.
Things to do with your writing friends besides a traditional critique group:
Give each other book recommendations/ discuss books you’ve all read
Watch movies or TV shows together (especially bad ones) and talk about what did/ didn’t work. My favorite bad movie to watch with other writers is Jupiter Ascending.
Compare notes about how each of you approach writing/ things you learned about your writing processes
Read and discuss craft resources
Take classes or attend conferences together
Go on writing retreats
Commiserate about how hard writing/ editing/ pitching/ marketing is
Go on what KJ Dell’Antonia and Sarina Bowen call a “plot walk.” Periodically, these two writer friends go on a walk and take turns discussing their plot problems. While one writer speaks, the other listens and asks questions or makes suggestions.
Brainstorm
Write together – meet up in person or on zoom and spend an hour working on your own projects in a shared space
Have a writer’s room jam session. Collaborate on a piece of writing that is just for fun/ practice.
Just hang out and get to know each other as humans, with no requirement to talk about books or writing.
Looking for more writer friends? Check out this post from my archives.
Hiring an Instructor
Singers hire vocal coaches. Actors hire acting coaches. But until five years ago, it hadn’t occurred to me that writers could also hire coaches. The narrative I internalized is that writers should toil alone improving through a patchwork of self-discipline, critique groups, and attendance at conferences/ workshops. Only once a writer has produced something “good enough” to capture the interest of an agent or editor can a writer expect to have another professional invested enough in their career to provide one-on-one support and development.
Which, if you think about it logically, is kind of stupid.
Everyone can benefit from professional instruction. Learning in a group is great, but there can also be value in receiving one-on-one support from a professional coach to help you become a better writer.
If you want to know more about how a coach can help you…
You can listen to me chat with my coach about working with her levelled up my writing. Or, you can book a free 30 minute consult and talk to me directly.
The value of “cross training.”
One final thought I’ll leave you with: don’t put all your creative eggs in one basket. While you may have one art form (such as writing) that you love best and are motivated to practice and improve, don’t let it be your only creative outlet. I particularly recommend something that is truly just for fun and you have no aspirations of executing with “professional” quality. It’s a good way to mitigate burnout. And, you might learn about your own creative process in ways you didn’t expect.
love these ideas. Thank you so much for this excellent post. I took the liberty of crossposting to my readers.
Thanks for your idea of a writer’s sketchbook! I’ve had sketchbooks as an artist but never connected that with writing. So cool 😎 I am starting one today. Yes, cross-fertilization for my creativity.