I have time to write every day, and do my job and cook dinner and play with the cats and be a halfway decent wife and a very good mother.
Formats and structures are far more inspiring to me than topics.
I need 6-10 ideas to sift through and reject before I commit to one.
If I can generate 42-70 ideas per week that seem reasonable to try to write about, there really should be no reason to ever feel blocked as a writer.
Carrie Gelson is the reader I picture when I’m writing.
I’m still terrible at titling my posts.
Endings are always the trickiest part of a piece, but 31 days of practice finding the ending has helped me get there more quickly.
The best part of slicing really is the community. It’s great to do the writing, but the community is what inspires me to join this challenge.
Comments matter. They don’t need to be long. Sometimes an “I really felt this” is all the writer needs to feel heard and keep going.
I wish I could consistently publish in the morning—both to have it checked off my list for the day and to receive more comments.
Most pieces need considerable percolation time. For a short piece, maybe a few hours; for a longer piece, maybe a few days.
I like to have several potential slices I’m working on at once, adding here and there until I get a piece ready for publication.
I always feel like I’m cheating when I write a “Currently” post even though they’re one of my favorites to read on other blogs.
Part of my story as a writer is that I periodically have to relearn everything I know about writing.
Losing my way and finding it again is simply part of my writing process.
When I write daily, I trust the writing will be there.
But at the same time, “there is nothing more deadening to creativity than the grim determination to write” (Abigail Thomas).
Writing is sometimes the only part of my day when I feel fully present and fully engaged.
The more I write, the less I feel like I understand the process of writing.
The pressure of publishing every day means less play in my notebook.
I like to read a few slices before I start writing.
I am most productive first thing in the morning, but it’s rarely the time I choose to write.
When I am focused on writing to a particular format or structure, the sentence-level writing matters far less to me. The perfectionist in me finds posts with special formats or structures especially conducive to quick publication.
Sometimes I can’t start working on my piece until I write about all the things swarming around my head that are getting in the way of starting work on my piece.
I am a slow writer. There was one post that took ten minutes from conception to publication (that was a great day!). For the rest, I usually had at least one potential idea before I sat down to write, and then I budgeted an hour for writing. That was rarely enough to revise and find the ending.
What for me is a slapped-together post has still been reworked, revised, rethought, rewritten multiple times.
I think a lot about how each piece gets written and try to reflect on my process, but how all of this works is often still a mystery.
There is something essentially unknowable about how we write. There is something magical and mysterious and unpredictable and unpindownable and most definitely unteachable about doing this.
I understand how to write not by talking about it or thinking about it but by doing it.
“I live better when I slice.” I copied these words in my notebook at the beginning of the month, and now I don’t know whose words they are. I’ve checked all my favorite blogs, and I can’t find the quotation, and I’m so sorry not to attribute those words to their owner. But I have thought of them often this month. Yes. I live better when I slice.