Monthly Archives: October 2009

Scribble Your Way to Liberation: Three Daily Pages

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Use this technique for: a daily practice to clear your head.

Starting point: at the start of three pages.

Ending point: when three pages have been filled.

8:47 AM  Vivaldi, and the usual breakfast.  It’s been a while, hasn’t it?  Were I at the old job, I’d be getting coffee and settling in.  But I’m not, so I’m not.  But I still feel as though I’ve emerged through something.  Or maybe it was just the ugly dreams I had, my brain purging out the sticky worst case scenarios.

Those who have read Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way (and even quite a few people who haven’t) are familiar with the concept of “Morning Pages.”  Some might also be familiar with Natalie Goldman’s notebook technique in Writing Down The Bones.

This is my personal variation on that particular theme, which you are free to further adapt to your own needs.  (Particularly considering that I came up with these rules by breaking a number of the “rules” for Morning Pages.)

To do Three Daily Pages you should use a lined notebook with standard notebook paper sized pages.  (Roughly 8 ½ inches by 11 inches.  27.9 centimeters by 21.5 centimeters, for those of you dialing in from the metric system.)  Using smaller journals is kind of cheating and using catbook-sized notebooks is really cheating.  You can use cheap spiral bound notebooks or you can even find rather lovely bound books of that size as well.  (I get mine at Borders in the bargain section.  They are magnificent and not that expensive.)

The rules are pretty simple.  Once per day, sit down and free write until you have filled three pages.  Then stop.

How long it takes you depends on how fast you write and perhaps what sort of margins you set for yourself.  (Spiral bound notebooks are often kinder as they provide those little red lines to keep you from taking up too much space.)  I set aside an hour of time to be sure, though most days it runs about forty minutes, give or take.

For some odd reason, I’ve developed the habit of writing down what time it is and updating the time every sixty seconds.  Part of this was to give me something to do when the urge to stare off into space was strong.  Part of it was simply to make me aware of how much time I had before I had to get ready to go to work.  Once I got enough of a stream of words going, I’d stop glancing at the clock and just write.

Traditionally, the pages are done first thing in the morning.  This can be a good way to start the day, transcribe odd dreams while they still linger in the mind and ponder your agenda.  However, if you find yourself running late and don’t have time, you can break the rules in one of two ways.  One is to confine yourself to a single full page if you don’t have time for three.  Another is to do what might be termed Evening Pages once you get home.  I’ve even done odd variations where I’ve done one page in the morning and the other two pages in the evening.  And I’ve done Afternoon Pages in the middle of the day.

However you do it, make sure that your stopping point is the end of a page and not somewhere in the middle.  The name of the game is to force yourself to fill the pages completely, no matter how cranky you feel about it, even if it’s five lines of the words “keep writing” over and over again.  Some days you will fill three pages with ease and want to keep going for a fourth.  Other days it’ll feel like digging a hole with a teaspoon.  The main point is to do it and do it consistently.

So why do we do this to ourselves anyway?  In some ways, it’s something like a meditation practice.  Instead of letting our repetitive thoughts rattle around in our head we can get them out and see if there’s anything we can do about them.  You can do minor venting here (and keep the nuclear level venting for the Shit Book) or brainstorm ideas or just write about the sound of the rain on the roof and the smell of the morning coffee.  You will find that you tend to go about the day with much more clarity if you spend at least some part of the day clearing three pages worth of stuff from your mind.

A revised version of this entry can be found in the ebook Catbooks and Other Methods.

Scribble Your Way to Liberation: The Shit Book

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Chapter Three: The Three Daily Pages
Use this technique for: a daily practice to clear your head.
Starting point: at the start of three pages.
Ending point: when three pages have been filled.
8:47 AM  Vivaldi, and the usual breakfast.  It’s been a while, hasn’t it?  Were I at the old job, I’d be getting coffee and settling in.  But I’m not, so I’m not.  But I still feel as though I’ve emerged through something.  Or maybe it was just the ugly dreams I had, my brain purging out the sticky worst case scenarios.
Those who have read Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way (and even quite a few people who haven’t) are familiar with the concept of “Morning Pages.”  Some might also be familiar with Natalie Goldman’s notebook technique in Writing Down The Bones.
This is my personal variation on that particular theme, which you are free to further adapt to your own needs.  (Particularly considering that I came up with these rules by breaking a number of the “rules” for Morning Pages.)
To do Three Daily Pages you should use a lined notebook with standard notebook paper sized pages.  (Roughly 8 ½ inches by 11 inches.  27.9 centimeters by 21.5 centimeters, for those of you dialing in from the metric system.)  Using smaller journals is kind of cheating and using catbook-sized notebooks is really cheating.  You can use cheap spiral bound notebooks or you can even find rather lovely bound books of that size as well.  (I get mine at Borders in the bargain section.  They are magnificent and not that expensive.)
The rules are pretty simple.  Once per day, sit down and free write until you have filled three pages.  Then stop.
How long it takes you depends on how fast you write and perhaps what sort of margins you set for yourself.  (Spiral bound notebooks are often kinder as they provide those little red lines to keep you from taking up too much space.)  I set aside an hour of time to be sure, though most days it runs about forty minutes, give or take.
For some odd reason, I’ve developed the habit of writing down what time it is and updating the time every sixty seconds.  Part of this was to give me something to do when the urge to stare off into space was strong.  Part of it was simply to make me aware of how much time I had before I had to get ready to go to work.  Once I got enough of a stream of words going, I’d stop glancing at the clock and just write.
Traditionally, the pages are done first thing in the morning.  This can be a good way to start the day, transcribe odd dreams while they still linger in the mind and ponder your agenda.  However, if you find yourself running late and don’t have time, you can break the rules in one of two ways.  One is to confine yourself to a single full page if you don’t have time for three.  Another is to do what might be termed Evening Pages once you get home.  I’ve even done odd variations where I’ve done one page in the morning and the other two pages in the evening.  And I’ve done Afternoon Pages in the middle of the day.
However you do it, make sure that your stopping point is the end of a page and not somewhere in the middle.  The name of the game is to force yourself to fill the pages completely, no matter how cranky you feel about it, even if it’s five lines of the words “keep writing” over and over again.  Some days you will fill three pages with ease and want to keep going for a fourth.  Other days it’ll feel like digging a hole with a teaspoon.  The main point is to do it and do it consistently.
So why do we do this to ourselves anyway?  In some ways, it’s something like a meditation practice.  Instead of letting our repetitive thoughts rattle around in our head we can get them out and see if there’s anything we can do about them.  You can do minor venting here (and keep the nuclear level venting for the Shit Book) or brainstorm ideas or just write about the sound of the rain on the roof and the smell of the morning coffee.  You will find that you tend to go about the day with much more clarity if you spend at least some part of the day clearing three pages worth of stuff from your mind.

Use this technique for: when you are really, really, really pissed off about something.

Starting point: when you need to get something off your chest.

Stopping point: when it’s off your chest.

Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you and by the way FUCK YOU.

Free writing is a fine way to vent, to allow those thoughts racing through your head a place to park themselves so you can stop thinking them over and over again.

The Shit Book is all venting, all the time.  The Shit Book is the toxic waste dump for the thoughts you really don’t want to be thinking.  Use it when something is bothering you so much it is physically hurting you and you can feel that odd ache in your chest that won’t go away with distractions or deep breathing.  Use it when you find yourself mentally rehashing past arguments, trying to get that one last word in.  Use it to write the things you wish you could say to someone, but know you’d get in trouble for saying.

My personal Shit Book is a smallish blue spiral bound notebook with a Mr. Yuk-like face scrawled on the cover.  It’s lasted me for many years, since I only haul it out for extreme situations and I have gone for long stretches without needing it at all.

The rules for the Shit Book are as follows:

1.  Confine it to one book specifically for Shit Book purposes.  Do not use your regular diary or journal for this.

2.  Write in pencil.  This isn’t anything you want to preserve for future generations and the last thing you need is your pen to run out when you’ve got a rant going.

3.  Hold absolutely nothing back.  Whoever or whatever you are angry at, this is no time to be polite or reasonable.  They’re never going to read it.  Be as petty, bitter, vicious and selfish as possible.  Throw a tantrum.  Dredge up every insult in the book and add in a few new ones.  Write things you don’t even really mean, but that you want to say because you’re that pissed off.  Write down all the ways you could take revenge if you were that kind of person.  Get every ounce of it out of you.

4.  Be egocentric.  For heaven’s sake, do not use this technique to beat up on yourself!  Place yourself at the center of the universe and everybody else beneath you for the length of this exercise.  Even when you rationally know that you have your own part in whatever mess you’re in, this is not the time and place for acknowledging that.  Blame everybody and everything but you and go to town with it.

5.  Write until the ache dies down.  It may take a paragraph, it may take pages, just keep going until all the venom has been properly purged.

6.  ABSOLUTELY DO NOT REREAD IT.  Put it this way—rereading what you wrote in your Shit Book is like drinking your own vomit.  It came out of you for a reason, and taking it back in is just going to make you sick all over again.  I speak from unfortunate experience on this one—trust me, it is really for the best to leave the words on the page and never return to them.  Turn the book to a new page and put it away for when you need it again.  I intend to destroy my current Shit Book when I’ve eventually filled it out, because there’s nothing in there that needs to be kept.

A variation on this is the Angry Letter.  Abraham Lincoln reportedly used this technique—he would write angry letters and then toss them in the stove to be consumed by the flames.  They’re traditionally directed at people, but you can also direct them at groups of people or even more abstract notions.  (“Dear Educational System . . .”)  The game is pretty much the same as the Shit Book—spew out all rage, hold nothing back, write until done—and then you can sign it, if you are so inclined, and then rip the letter to bits and dispose of it.  Incineration optional.

The Internet would probably be a much calmer place if more people used Shit Books instead of doing the same thing with the “Reply” function.

A revised version of this entry can be found in the ebook Catbooks and Other Methods.

Scribble Your Way to Liberation: The Catbook

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Use this technique for: making wait times a lot more bearable.
Starting point:  when you have a spare moment and not much else to do.
Stopping point: when the spare moment ends.
Band’s over, but the rain’s still falling and looks like it will be for some time.  So I guess I’ll pass the time here until the clouds pass over.  Story of my life, really.  I could have another drink, but I know I’d regret it in the morning, so I’ll get drunk on words instead.
Any time I venture from the house, I always carry four essential items with me—keys, wallet, phone and catbook.
A catbook is a small notebook that I use to free write in.  I’ve used small blank journals with fancy covers and I’ve used cheap tiny notebooks from the drugstore.  (Lately, I’ve taken to sticking them in my back jeans pocket, and thus I’ve rather lost interest in the hardbound ones.)  The important thing is that it fits easily in a purse or pocket and is not burdensome to carry.
As I mentioned, I started to carry one in the event that A Brilliant Idea would strike me over the head and I would have a place to write it down before it got away.  I still use it for that now and again, but I mostly use it while I’m waiting for things.
Many of my catbooks have been filled while I waited for public transportation to arrive.  I’ve used them in waiting rooms, restaurants, bars, long lines and even in exceedingly bad traffic (though I’m quick to put the book down the moment things start to move.)  I’ve also done some rather shaky writing on moving buses.  (If you’re one of those fortunate souls who can read while in a moving vehicle without suffering motion sickness, you may not need this.  If, like me, you need the movement of the pen to signal to your brain that the inner ear is not kidding, you will find this a great way to spend the ride if you’re already familiar with what’s out the window.)
Catbooks will allow you to do things like chronicle your comings and going as you come and go, to vent about frustrating situations without taking it out on other people (waiting rooms, for example, are fine examples of frustrating situations) and to jot down your observations about your surroundings.  They don’t have to be written in nonstop, you can write for as long as you feel like and then put the book down and look around for a bit and then dive back in again.  Write when you’re in a place where you can write and stop writing when it’s time to stop (such as when the bus, the food or the time for the appointment arrives.)
Writing allows you to look busy so people will generally leave you alone.  Sometimes people will ask what you’re writing.  You are under no particular obligation to tell them.  If I’m feeling particularly smartass, I’ll say “words” and leave it at that.  If I’m feeling more sociable, I’ll explain what a catbook is to them.  If you wanted to explain that’s it something you picked up from this nifty site called Wonderbink.com, go right ahead.

Use this technique for: making wait times a lot more bearable.

Starting point: when you have a spare moment and not much else to do.

Stopping point: when the spare moment ends.

Band’s over, but the rain’s still falling and looks like it will be for some time.  So I guess I’ll pass the time here until the clouds pass over.  Story of my life, really.  I could have another drink, but I know I’d regret it in the morning, so I’ll get drunk on words instead.

Any time I venture from the house, I carry four essential items with me—keys, wallet, phone and catbook.

A catbook is a small notebook that I use to free write in.  I’ve used miniature hardbound journals with fancy covers and I’ve used cheap tiny notebooks from the drugstore.  (Lately, I’ve taken to sticking them in my back jeans pocket, and thus I’ve rather lost interest in the hardbound ones.)  The important thing is that it fits easily in a purse or pocket and is not burdensome to carry.

As I mentioned, I started to carry one in the event that A Brilliant Idea would strike me over the head and I would have a place to write it down before it got away.  I still use it for that now and again, but I mostly use it while I’m waiting for things.

Many of my catbooks have been filled while I waited for public transportation to arrive.  I’ve used them in waiting rooms, restaurants, bars, long lines and even in exceedingly bad traffic (though I’m quick to put the book down the moment things start to move.)  I’ve also done some rather shaky writing on moving buses.  (If you’re one of those fortunate souls who can read while in a moving vehicle without suffering motion sickness, you may not need this.  If, like me, you need the movement of the pen to signal to your brain that the inner ear is not kidding, you will find this a great way to spend the ride if you’re already familiar with what’s out the window.)

Catbooks will allow you to do things like chronicle your comings and going as you come and go, to vent about frustrating situations without taking it out on other people (waiting rooms, for example, are fine examples of frustrating situations) and to jot down your observations about your surroundings.  If there’s something on your mind that has nothing to do with your surroundings, you can just as easily write that down instead.  They don’t have to be written in nonstop, you can write for as long as you feel like and then put the book down and look around for a bit and then dive back in again.  Write when you’re in a place where you can write and stop writing when it’s time to stop (such as when the bus, the food or the time for the appointment arrives.)

Catbooks also liberate you from the stultifying notion that one needs “quiet time”, an antique desk with a beautiful view and a perfect cup of tea in order to write.  Indeed, you may find that the more tumultuous the surroundings, the more interesting the results.

Writing allows you to look busy so people will generally leave you alone.  Sometimes people will ask what you’re writing.  You are under no particular obligation to tell them.  If I’m feeling particularly smartass, I’ll say “words” and leave it at that.  If I’m feeling more sociable, I’ll explain what a catbook is to them.  If you wanted to explain that’s it something you picked up from this nifty site called Wonderbink.com, go right ahead.

A revised version of this entry can be found in the ebook Catbooks and Other Methods.

Catbooks and Other Methods

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When I was in high school back in the 20th century, I was introduced to the concept of free writing.  I was taking Advanced Placement English (which is much like a regular English class, except that they expect more of you) and the teacher started each class by playing a song on a primitive device called a ‘cassette player’ and giving us the length of one song to write whatever happened to be in our heads on a sheet of notebook paper.  Random observations, lyrics, elations, frustrations, whatever.  To give us something resembling an assignment to hand in, we had to type up one of our pages for his perusal each week.  I recall that the typed-up pages I produced were heavily embroidered with bracketed comments, per his instructions, to explain what exactly the heck I was going on about.
My first English class in college also had me free writing.  (I recall the girl sitting next to me looked completely baffled at the concept.  “It’s easy!” I said cheerily, “Just write whatever comes into your head!”  She gave me the blankest look I’d ever been given.)  At some point around that time, I can’t recall exactly when, I picked up a small pocket-sized hardbound journal with a silhouette of a cat looking down at a knocked-over vase.  Originally, I’d bought it for the Writing Down of Brilliant Ideas that writerly types are supposed to be struck with.  Instead, I found myself free writing into it at random intervals, while waiting for things or needing to clear my head.  I dubbed it my ‘catbook’ and the name stuck even as I used that one up and moved on to other small books for scribbling in.

When I was in high school back in the 20th century, I was introduced to the concept of free writing.  I was taking Advanced Placement English (which is much like a regular English class, except that they expect more of you) and the teacher started each class by playing a song on a primitive device called a ‘cassette player’ and giving us the length of one song to write whatever happened to be in our heads on a sheet of notebook paper.  Random observations, lyrics, elations, frustrations, whatever.  To give us something resembling an assignment to hand in, we had to type up one of our pages for his perusal each week.  I recall that the typed-up pages I produced were heavily embroidered with bracketed comments, per his instructions, to explain what exactly the heck I was going on about.

My first English class in college also had me free writing.  (I recall the girl sitting next to me looked completely baffled at the concept.  “It’s easy!” I said cheerily, “Just write whatever comes into your head!”  She gave me the blankest look I’d ever been given.)  At some point around that time, I picked up a small pocket-sized hardbound journal with a silhouette of a cat looking down at a knocked-over vase.  I’d bought it for the Writing Down of Brilliant Ideas that writerly types are supposed to be struck with.  Instead, I found myself free writing into it on a regular basis.  I dubbed it my ‘catbook’ and the name stuck even as I used that one up and moved on to other small books for scribbling in.

These books may well have saved my life.  Or, at the very least, made it much more bearable.  I emerged from college into a recession-tightened job market and found myself taking public transportation to various menial jobs.  I filled many a catbook during the drawn-out journeys from bus to train to destination.  Over time, I came up with other ways to make use of the fine art of free writing–some adapted from other sources, others pretty much sprung from trying something and finding it worked.

Free writing is so ridiculously easy that I suspect that’s why so few people seem to do it.  They may assume that something so simple couldn’t be of any help to them.  Then again, walking is pretty simple, but people use walking to lose weight, strengthen their bodies and even as a way to meditate.  Not bad for putting one foot in front of the other.

The main rule of free writing is to write down what’s in your head without going back and fixing anything.  That’s pretty much it.  All other parameters are subject to change and this blog will be talking about those parameters and when and why to apply them.

If you’ve never, ever done it before, it might seem a bit odd to you.  You may think, “oh, crap, I can’t think of anything to write” at which point you write down the words oh, crap, I can’t think of anything to write and you’re on your way.  You may think “geez, this is so stupid” and, well, write down geez, this is so stupid and, yeah, I think you get the idea.  You may be disappointed to discover that you can’t come up with anything more profound than I want a grilled cheese sandwich and my neck is sore.  Relax.  If you haven’t done it in a while (or if you haven’t done it ever) it can be a bit like cleaning out a junk drawer and finding all the expired coupons and keys that don’t fit any locks.  Once you get all that out of the way, you may find more useful things buried underneath.

While my first experience with free writing required me to hand in a neatened-up version of the results periodically (I suppose to prove that I was indeed doing it) most of not all free writing should be written with the expectation that nobody is going to read it other than you.  This allows you to write without mentally glancing over your shoulder to wonder What Will People Think.  Who cares?  This isn’t for them.  This is for you.  (In fact, for some of these methods, I recommend that you destroy the results afterward so even you can’t read them again.)

So, if you’re new to this (or even if you aren’t) here’s your homework assignment:  Get one sheet of notebook paper and a working pen.  Go somewhere you will be left alone, whether it’s your bedroom or your favorite coffee shop.  Start at the top of the page and write until you’ve hit the bottom.  If you’re feeling up to it, do both sides.  Note how you feel before and afterward.  If, like me, you feel better than when you started, hello and welcome to my writing habit.  Come back and I’ll show you some more fun you can have with this stuff.

A revised version of this entry can be found in the ebook Catbooks and Other Methods.

Hello world!

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“Hello world!” is, of course, the default post title for one’s very first WordPress blog post.  It seemed oddly apropos to leave it there.

My name is Sheila O’Shea and I am a writer.  I am a writer the way other people are smokers and drinkers–writing is a habit for me, a compulsive one that eases the pains of day-to-day living and leaves me out of sorts if I don’t indulge in it on a regular basis.  Unlike tobacco and alcohol, the pen-and-paper industry doesn’t seem to have the same advertising budget to get more people hooked on their product in the way that I make use of it.  This seems a shame, since of all three habits, writing is the least damaging to one’s health and well-being.

This is not a blog about fiction writing or freelance writing.  (My thoughts on fiction will be confined to a different blog.)  This about the addiction of writing for oneself, of different ways and techniques to make use of the written word to clear the head, untangle problems or simply to pass the time.  You don’t have to have ambitions as a professional writer to make use of them.  I offer these notions to the world in the hopes that more people will share my addiction, so the next time I’m caught out without a pen, I’ll have an easier time bumming one from somebody else . . .