Tyler Hillis

The work continues with steady routine.

When I first set out to write this book, I never imagined how long it would take me to finish the first draft. Once I got a little over halfway through it, the length intimidated me. I saw what was left to write and felt as though my ambition had balooned. Had I known its length from the outset, I may not have ever committed to writing it.

But that’s not to say I’m drowning. It’s actually the opposite; I’m relishing it. It’s opened my eyes to the necessity of detail and taking your time with the story. If I’d followed my original outline without taking the wonderful detours that form naturally while writing, the story would probably clock in around 60,000 words. I’m now at around 92,000 with four chapters to go (unless a new detour changes those plans).

The success I’ve found—success that is purely personal at this point—I credit to two important things: refining my process and committing to a consistent routine.

Process was the biggest questions mark I had beginning this book. Do I write better in the morning or the evening? Should I go to a coffee shop or work at the same desk I sit at all day for my job? Do I edit as I write or simply vomit onto the page and clean it up later?

If you’re reading this hoping to find the ‘key advice for writing better,’ this won’t be it. The process I’ve developed over the past three months is something I settled on after plenty of experimentation. I would encourage you to do the same. Every day you set out to write, change a variable. It could be the location, the time, or even your level of intoxication (not something I necessarily encourage but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t experiment with that aspect as well).

The process I’ve landed on is a simple one.

1. The time of day does not matter. But commit a full hour of unbroken attention. Close all the other tabs, set the phone aside, clear your mind. Generally, I’ve found a good window is somewhere around 6pm-10pm. But, the later I write, the more my mind will continue thinking as I try to go to sleep, and thus, bring about a poor night’s rest.
2. Start each session by reading the previous day’s section and lightly editing. This allows me to slowly ramp into a focused state of mind and pick up the strings I had left the day before. It’s also refinement of the story so that the entire first draft will have had some bits of editing done to it.
3. After editing, think about the goal of the next scene and where would be an interesting place to start. Write the first sentence and let that inform the next. And let the next one inform the one after that. And so on, while keeping the ultimate goal in the back of your head. Don’t rush to get there, but let the discovery process twist and turn its own way there. It will happen; just trust yourself.
4. When deciding when to finish for the night, I have three criteria that must be met before I allow myself to be done.
   • Have you passed the one hour mark?
   • Have you reached the goal you’ve been keeping in mind?
   • Are you at a place that you can easily pick up from tomorrow?
5. The only criteria I allow wiggle room is the second one. Sometimes, a section will be too long or more detail is needed before I can reach the goal I’m going for. And, life gets in the way of that. My time could be limited, or I could be tired from the day and feel my creativity waning. In these cases, I write a single sentence at the end of the section to myself for the next day. Something as simple as, ‘She needs to meet with her dad and then talk about the rebellion before ultimately coming to the realization that she agrees with it.’ Essentially a brief outline of the goal and how I want to get there.

Alongside this process, I am committed to routine. As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, I’ve tried to train my brain of the necessity of writing as if it were eating. It’s daily sustenance. And if I don’t get it, I feel awful.

There are a thousand excuses I’ve tried to tell myself over the past three months to avoid writing. I’m tired. I’m not feeling creative. I just got bad news and it doesn’t feel worth it. I don’t need one more thing to worry about. You name it, I’ve tried to talk myself out of writing with it.

But I push back. Hard. Routine is not always enjoyable. Often, it’s miserable. But that’s in the moment. Without routine, I would have never gotten this far. Because once you break routine, you give yourself permission to break it again. And again. And again. Until eventually, the routine is gone completely.

And so, the work continues with steady routine.