Meaghan Wilson Anastasios

Writing isn’t easy, or everyone would do it. But if you’ve been bitten by the bug, that’s it. You’re done. And if you’ve caught the disease, I’m here to help.

If you won’t be satisfied until you’re chained to a keyboard churning out your magnus opus, you may well like some advice. And that’s where I come in. I’m your friendly neighbourhood “who-the-hell-is-this-woman-and-what-does-she-know-about-my-daily-struggle-with-writing?” saviour.

Why six golden writing rules? I don’t know. That’s how many I came up with. I’m sure there are many more. These are the six that jumped into my head.

With the disclaimer, of course, that this is just what works for me. But I’ve shared these thoughts with enough people over the years who claim that my writing suggestions weren’t completely useless. Maybe they were just being polite. Although two of them did go on to write their own books and see them published. So, there is that.

So why am I doing this rather than writing my own stuff right now?

Firstly, there’s a reason I have time on my hands. I’ve entered that strange liminal zone familiar to all writers where I have my novel out with my agent and other people in high places. Now, all I can do is wait while my insides churn like a malfunctioning blender serving up heaving bowls of anxiety one minute and euphoria the next, with mismatched side plates of self-doubt and delusional grandeur. I’m pretty sure it’s the degustation menu served up in literary purgatory.

The worst of it is not so much the waiting to hear if the words I’ve thrown at a screen will actually one day appear in a more concrete form, or if my literary baby is doomed to crawl around the ‘archive’ folder on my laptop forever. Because that’s the big philosophical question for a writer: if a book falls in the forest, and nobody’s there to read it, was it really a book? At least at this point, I still have hope to hold on to.

The thing that’s the hardest is the hollow grief that comes from ending something that’s occupied my mind for most of my waking hours for over a year. It even got to the point that I was dreaming about my story. There’s got to be a name for that. Writemares?

This is only my third draft, and if past experience is anything to go by, there will be many more. So it’s not the last I’ve seen of it. But for a year, it’s been my joy. My baby. My preoccupation. My purpose. And now I’m just spinning my wheels to see what happens next.

So, time to make myself useful! And it was suggested by a dear friend who is also a writerly type that this might be something worth sharing with other fledgling writers out there.

For what it’s worth, here are my six golden rules to get you writing. Feel free to share this far and wide. And if you have any questions or contributions to make, don’t be shy – just give me a shout in the comments.

1. If you have one foot in yesterday, and one foot in tomorrow, you’re pissing all over today.

According to the all-knowing Google gods, that exceptional quote is attributable to Michael J. Fox. Who would know, after all, because of that whole Back to the Future thing. And it’s a corker that all us writers should scribble onto a post-it note and pin onto the wall above our desks.

Worrying too much about things that haven’t gone to plan in the past?

… What if the reason I haven’t done this yet is because I’m no good at it?

… If I didn’t finish my last manuscript, why is this time going to be any different?

… What if I’d taken my book to another publisher?

… What if I’d been shopping my manuscript around today rather than five years ago when nobody was interested in cosplay interstellar spicy romances?

Stop right now! Or you’ll be crippled into inaction. And to be a writer, you have to write.

Or maybe you’re worrying too much about the future.

… What if nobody likes what I’ve done?

… What if books really are dead?

… What if I can’t finish it?

… Is there even a single person out there who wants to read about a taxidermist’s wife?

Stop right now! Or – you guessed it – you’ll be crippled into inaction. And to be a writer, you have to write. Thank you, Marty McFly.

2. When you’re having a bad writing day, just push through

I’ll say it again. To be a writer, you have to write.

That’s not to say it’s always easy. The feeling of sitting down and realising that the muse has taken a rostered day off is the absolute worst. No amount of hammering at her door will convince her to open it, because she’s on the sofa in her ugg boots with a hot cocoa and a bowl of popcorn, streaming the entire series of Succession all over again because it really is that good.

So what I do is force myself to sit down anyway and just get writing. I know that when I open my work again tomorrow, the vomit I’ve spewed up onto the page will be drying around the edges and look even worse than it does today. But at least it’s something. And there’s nothing more disheartening than getting to the end of the day with nothing to show for it. Even if the thing you have to show for it is a pile of vomit.

I’ll leave that analogy alone now. But take my word for it. Move forward, even if it means you’ll have to take a step or two back tomorrow. You’ll feel all the better for it.

3. The busier I am, the better I am at writing

Pressure is a great motivator. I’m far more productive when I have a gazillion things competing for my attention. It means that I’ll grab any opportunity to write. Fifteen minutes of clear time is all I need. Glue four of those together, and it becomes an hour. Do that every day, and over the course of a week, it adds up to seven hours. And that is very nearly a full workday.

Yes, the time will come where you need to dedicate a good chunk of time to editing those little grabs together into something that works as a cohesive whole. Because inevitably, you’ll lose your ‘voice’ and consistency at times when you’re working like that. But – again – it’s all about the importance of moving forward and seeing progress.

What’s the saying? Eat an elephant a mouthful at a time. Actually, that’s a truly disgusting metaphor. But you get what I mean.

4. Get busy practising your writing. Even Usain Bolt had a training program

Sure, some people are born with a gift. But if you don’t work on it, that gift shrivels up into nothing.

Writing is no different. If you don’t work the writing muscle, it atrophies. So write whatever you can, whenever you can. Write someone a letter (**gasp** yes – on paper, with a stamp and everything!). Go beyond ‘happy birthday, wishing you a great day’ in a birthday card. Write a letter to the paper. Write a social media post or three. The more you do it, the better – and quicker – you’ll become. The words will flow more easily, and you’ll find a way of expressing yourself that sounds truly and authentically like you.

It also means that not finishing something isn’t failing. Because starting something – anything at all – will make you a better writer. It’s your ‘ten laps of the field’ training session.

5. Your laptop will become your best friend

Have to take the kids to sport training?  Excellent news. That’s solid-gold writing time. If you’ve got a laptop with you, an hour in the passenger’s seat of your car twice a week can be a gamechanger.

You’re facing the prospect of dropping your little one off to a party on a Saturday morning, only to turn around an hour-and-a-half later to do the pick-up? Instead of going home in between times, find a café, order yourself a coffee and a pastry (come on, you deserve it – and writing is hungry work), and get writing.

Some of my best writing has been done in a collapsible chair on the sidelines of athletics carnivals and football matches between kids’ appearances on the field. Yes, I am quite sure some of the other parents wrote me off as an anti-social weirdo. But if they’d really got to know me, they may well have come to the same conclusion anyway!

And a note of caution if you go the passenger seat laptop option. Be prepared for plenty of strange looks from bystanders if you’re doing this after dark. I’ve no idea how many times I may have ended up on somebody’s watch list because I was a stranger sitting in a car in a quiet, suburban street, working frantically on a laptop.

6. Celebrate the small wins

The creative life is deeply rewarding, fulfilling, and life-affirming. It can also be an absolute ache in the testicles, particularly when it comes to navigating the various industries involved in getting your creative ‘product’ out into the market… which for you, just means finding an audience for the thing you have written.

Anywhere along that tangled path, you may well find yourself at a dead end. Which makes my rule number five even more important.

Finished your first 10,000 words? Yay you. Pop a bottle of bubbly.

Decided on a title? Bravo! Treat yourself to a night out.

Sent your manuscript out to a thousand agents? Genius! Shout yourself a new pair of shoes.

Because what you are doing is extraordinary.

Because what you are doing is what makes the human race, human.

Because you are making a priceless contribution to the world.

Because you are making a difference.

What now? Tell me how you’re doing!

I hope this is helpful in some way or another. And tell me how your writing adventures are going!

And please let me know if there’s anything else about this crazy game I’m in you’d like to know. And don’t forget there’s the whole film and TV world I can pick apart as well. So, distract me, please! You’ll be doing me a favour! If I’m responding to you, I’m not worrying about the ‘what ifs’ and ‘what nexts’ and pissing all over the present.

Not to mention – spread the joy. Pass this on to anyone you think needs some friendly advice. On writing, I mean. This isn’t going to be much use to someone who wants to pick up lacrosse.