Summary

A writer shares how altering his morning routine by showering before writing has unexpectedly invigorated his creativity, driven by the discomfort of breaking habitual patterns.

Abstract

The author, an ER Doc by profession, reflects on the struggle to infuse emotion into writing, finding that even the most harrowing experiences can become mundane over time. After a particularly frustrating incident involving rutabagas at a farmers market, he turns to various therapies to manage his emotions. This experience leads to the creation of a "negku," a 17-syllable form similar to a haiku but composed entirely of negative words. Recognizing that pain and discomfort can fuel great writing, he decides to disrupt his comfortable morning routine by showering first. This simple change results in a burst of creativity, suggesting that embracing life's disruptions can enhance one's writing.

Opinions

The author believes that writers with tumultuous pasts have an easier time bringing emotion to their writing.
He sarcastically downplays his own life experiences, suggesting they lack the depth needed for profound writing.
The writer humorously exaggerates the impact of a rutabaga shortage, implying that even trivial events can be a source of inspiration when one is desperate for creative stimulation.
He suggests that therapies like ketamine infusions, ECT, group therapy, ayahuasca, and day drinking can be coping mechanisms for emotional pain.
The author facetiously presents the creation of a "negku" as a positive outcome of his agitation.
He opines that breaking away from a safe and comfortable routine can lead to better writing by forcing one to confront and utilize personal discomfort.
The writer implies that even physical discomfort, such as "tech neck," can be a catalyst for creativity.

Showering Before Writing — What Changing My Morning Routine Did to Jump Start My Creativity, and Why

Now I’m clean and boring instead of the other way around

Some writers have all the luck.

They’ve led painful past lives: Ted Cruz’s personal chef, Twinky addict, Applebee’s server, middle school math teacher, nudist colony fry cook, Bate’s Motel doorman. Or they’ve endured some other misery that left permanent scars.

They can tap into rage, depression, discontent, disappointment, bewilderment even, effortlessly bringing emotion to their writing. It’s easy for them to write great stuff.

Me, I’ve got none of that.

Thirty-three years as an ER Doc taught me that even the daily mangle and splatter can become routine, and does.

Recently though, I flew into a homicidal rage when my local farmers market nearly ran out of organic, free-range, fair-trade fresh rutabagas. But who wouldn’t? Right?

Thankfully, a combination of ketamine infusions, ECT, group therapy, ayahuasca and day drinking are helping me cope with my pain.

One positive emerged though. The agida engendered by the shocking rutabaga incident spawned a “negku.”* For those of you unfamiliar with the form, it’s 17 syllables, like a haiku, in a 5–7–5 format, but every word is a bummer.

I’ve learned from the experience. Pain drives great writing. And, even the longest journey begins with a single step. Even a baby step.

With that in mind, I’m going to tap into pain, passion, rage, angst, massive personal upheavals and discomfort, using those needles to drive my writing to the next level.

That’s why I showered first this morning before sitting down to write.

Usually, my staid morning routine includes: check Medium stats, write one or two lines, check Medium stats, drink first cup of coffee while checking Medium stats, eat toasted bagel while checking Medium stats, write another line, drink second cup of coffee while checking Medium stats, get bored with myself and my writing, shower, try writing something else, continue to check stats while writing.

Boring huh? Comfortable and safe. Then again, so is the resultant writing.

Today though I mixed it up. The horror! Oh, the horror! I’m still smarting from the lash!

Coffee and bagel … downed. Then, right into the shower. The break in my routine — nearly life ending. But, I forced myself. Then to writing.

And voila, this story just flowed out of me, like toxic sludge from a third-world clothing factory.

I feel like I’m on to something.

The next time I’m confronted by crisis, a break in my well-worn routine, an upset, a personal setback, some form of misery, I’ll embrace it. Better writing will emerge from the torture.

“Tech neck” has me in its devilish grip as I write this.

Who knows what epic saga will result from that agony?

*The “negku” — All “s” words cuz they sound so good to me, but not necessary for a successful “negku.”

Shit sadly stinks, stains

Selfishly savaging skivs

Slobs shock shamelessly