What Counts As Writing?

I changed red to crimson. Can I go look at cat videos now?

This article was prompted by a comment on one of my articles, and I thank the author.

Fretting about what actually counts as writing is high on my list of wasted time. Though early on in my career I’ve had to battle with my inner Judge Judy to get out of imposter jail, these days, I just don’t go there. It’s not that I let myself off the hook about what’s writing and what’s not.

I just make rules that work for me.

You would think just getting words on the page would be enough for writers. But you would be very wrong. It’s a common affliction, this obsession over whether our words are the “right” words to justify saying we’ve done our work for the day.

When we torment ourselves with meaningless judgments about the tasks that contribute to producing an article or story, we sidetrack ourselves.

So let’s make it simple.

Producing a publishable manuscript, whether it’s the next great Nobel-worthy novel, or a solid academic article has many moveable parts.

The Prep Work

First, you need an idea. So you jot down some scenarios that have crossed the screen in your mind. Perhaps that leads to a search for a title if that’s what helps you begin.

Yet, as so often happens, an idea provokes a memory. So you reach for your journal and spend time exploring a piece of your past, or you work out some creative idea that may lead to a brick wall, but you have to try it anyway.

Next, some research for the information you need for a nonfiction piece.

Maybe a few lines of dialogue will come to you, so you note them in your journal or on your electric bill. You don’t know who says them or what they have to do with your idea, but you know from past experience you shouldn’t throw anything away.

Writers are like hoarders. We have the same excuse for the accumulation of junk. You never know when you might need it.

After a few hours of this, or maybe days or weeks–I don’t know how much time you have to devote to your craft, you get the message from your higher self or perhaps an editor to whom you’ve promised a piece, that it’s time to get cracking and get this baby written.

The Writing Work

So you’re not a pantser, the kind of writer who just opens a blank page and hits go. You need an outline. And that’s where you begin.

A few lines, words or phrases indicating where you want scenes. Nothing coherent to anyone else, but it’s a beginning to you.

But after all this work, can you say you’ve been writing?

You’ve already spent a good deal of time on a project with seemingly nothing to show for it. Word count wise.

If your honey comes home from work or your mother shouts into the basement, “What have you been doing all day?” what do you say?

Writing is supposed to begin with Chapter One. And an article should start with the first letter of your opening sentence that you drop cap. That’s writing they think. That’s writing says the Judge Judy in your head.

Here’s how I break it down. It doesn’t matter what I call it. I’m either working toward writing or putting words on the page. It all counts.

If I’m not putting words on the page but doing prep work, whether making notes or cogitating or researching, “I’m working on my novel.”

If I put words on the page, nt matter what page or what words, I’m writing my novel. Fill in any form you write, poems, academic paper, whatever.

The label doesn’t matter as long as I’m applying myself to my art and craft.

Writing is my profession, and I make sure I meet my deadlines. Whether I’ve set them for myself, or others have set them for me. If venting in my journal will help me do that, I’ll do it. If sticking my rear end in the chair for hours at a time until I each “The end,” is required, so be it.

Rather than worrying about whether what you’re doing is “real”writing, you’re better served by kicking to the curb some trumped up rules about how you should run the most important part of your life. Just get to work

I have one rule about my work. Stay honest.

If I watch cat videos during my writing session and tell myself I’m doing research on the habits of cats, I’ll call BS.

Unless a cat has a major role in my story, and I need to get their movements right.

If I set out in the morning to write for two hours, or edit two chapters of my current work-in-progress, or add 2k new words, I’m the one who will be proud completing my goal, or churning with guil because I let something distract me.

My writing process is my own.

I claimed myself as a writer decades ago, and with that came the responsibility to be honest with myself. But my rules are not your rules.

If you declare yourself to be a creative writer, then just write creatively every day.

Whether it’s tinkering with a work-in-progress to get it right, making an entry in your journal, or staring out the window to grasp hold of an idea.

When I change red to crimson, it’s because I’ve spent time deciding what color will help my reader see my character walk into a room. If it’s all I write today, then I haven’t written very much, but you better believe I was writing when I did it. Only after I made that change can I go watch the cat videos.

What are your rules about your writing practice? Whatever they are, just make sure you follow them.