Unless the writing rituals you favour involve full moons, sacrifices, and hallucinogens. If so, I’ve got nothing for you.
But if you’re trying to shake the procrastination goblin off your back, I’ve got a few suggestions that work for me. BYO hallucinogens and sacrifices.
Every writer’s been there. That terrible moment where we really should be putting pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard. But the siren’s call of absolutely anything other than writing is irresistible.
I’m certainly not immune to it. Quite the opposite. This morning I had every intention of sitting down nice and early to get a move on with re-writing the opening scene of the pilot I’ve written for a new TV series I’m pitching. Instead, I prioritised a long list of other things. A list that included cleaning up the dog turds from the back yard. Yes, I was that desperate. Anything to avoid writing.
Which made me think it might be worth sharing the process I’ve put in place to get my writing nose back to the grindstone.

Writing under duress
The problem for me is that I was pretty happy with what I’d written for my pilot. What put the kibosh on my work was the release of an absolutely appalling TV movie on one of the big streamers that replicates the location AND one key character trait of the lead in the series I’m developing.
So, to an extent, it’s back to the drawing board for me. And, no, I won’t repeat the name of the steamer of a film. That’s because I’ve been involved in the industry long enough to know that it’s an absolute miracle that anything at all ends up on screen, and that even the most disappointing shows involve a vast amount of work from very many talented and committed creative people. So, I won’t jump on the bandwagon when people are publicly tearing down another person’s creative work.
Be kind to your writing mind
But… I have to say, the bile has been rising at the thought that I have to rethink my story to accommodate something that will be a flash in the pan and long forgotten by the time I finish writing my scripts and my show gets up.
Like it or not, it has to be done. At the moment, all anyone would say if they saw my pilot is: “oh, this is just like ———. Wow, that was a steaming pile of excrement, wasn’t it?”
So what my writing brain is doing at the moment is having a little bit of a sulk.
It’s kind of like grieving. I’m grieving the writing I’d already done, the pictures I painted on the page, and the people I gave birth to in words. Because they’re all about to end up in the trash. Which is sad. I need to give my mind time to adjust. Hence, cleaning up dog turds.
Also, cooking. Because I’ve a couple of fading bananas in the fruit bowl, I’m going to be revisiting the tried-and-true banana bread recipe I posted a couple of weeks ago.
When you’re ready, make writing a ritual
But I can’t flop about like a heroine in a Regency novel for too long. Places to go. People to see. Stories to write.
So this is what I’ll be doing. Probably tomorrow.
And if you’re in the same space as I am, give it a try. Because it always works for me. I’m going to frogmarch my writing brain back to the keyboard. By then, it will have had enough of a sabbatical.
It’ll kick and scream, because, let’s be honest, who likes going back to work after summer holidays? But I’ll stand my ground.
Get the words flowing again
- start time: I’ll pick a time to start that’s set in stone. For me, that’ll probably be 9.30am.
- set up in your favourite writing place: If the weather’s nice, I’ll be out in the back garden in the shade with cushions to lounge on and a rug to put over my knees if it gets a bit chilly.
- sustenance: I’ll take out a café latte or hibiscus tea and a bowl of almonds so my brain can’t distract me by demanding food and beverages.
- writing time: Then I have to commit to an amount of time I’ll write without a break. For me tomorrow, that will probably be two hours and then I’ll do something like take the dog for a walk (and encourage her to deposit her business somewhere other than the back yard) before I get back into it again. But when things have been feeling particularly bleak, I’ve found that even fifteen minutes will do to get me started. On the good days, time flies, and fifteen minutes becomes two hours. But even if all I manage is fifteen minutes, it’s a whole lot better than nothing.
- word count: I never, ever use word count as a target if I’m feeling wobbly about the process. Because that can be crippling. But it’s good to keep track of the numbers. Because by the end of the day, I’ll often find that I’ve written much more than I imagined possible, given my state of mind.
Practising what I’m preaching
The bitter irony of all this is that what I’m doing right now is writing a blog post to help other writers get back on the keyboard doing what they should be doing.
And what I should be doing, is working on that opening scene.
Which is what I’m going to do. Tomorrow. After the banana bread. Wish me luck.
