distracted writing vs focused writing

ok yes fine i'll stop scrolling substack

I began revising my novel manuscript on January 4th. I’ve been combing through each chapter on my laptop and making them as perfect—maybe I should say: as to my taste?—as I can, on my own, in this moment. Every week and a half-ish, I send a chapter to a writer friend, Erika, who generously offers feedback and encouragement (she is an incredible hype woman). Once I get halfway through the draft, I’m going to give it to Peter (my genius spouse) for another round of feedback to help direct revisions on the novel’s second half.

Right now, my project is 89,500 words. Over the last four months, I’ve revised 17,828 of them. I’m proud of those 17,828 words (that’s 58 pages), and I’m not trying to be mean to myself, but like…this is not the pace I want to be moving. It is not, shall we say, aligned with the vision. So without beating myself up, I got curious. What’s happening here? Why the tortoise vibes? If I’m working on this project pretty much every day, why have I only revised about 15 pages a month?

The answer lies in how I’ve been showing up.

chapter 4 is 13 pages. it took me 25 days to revise

A common piece of writing advice is to just get your butt in the chair. But my butt in the chair can position me in front of many, many Chrome tabs that have nothing to do with my project. I get my butt in the chair, I open Scrivener, I read what I wrote yesterday, I write a sentence, I minimize Scrivener, I open Substack, I read mind-numbing Notes, I open a newsletter from a writer I like, I read half of it then remember I should be writing, I open Scrivener and write a few sentences, I look at the clock and realize it’s breakfast time and I’m starving, I make scrambled eggs then bring them back to my laptop, I can’t really type with a fork in hand so I go back to scrolling Substack, I get a text, I check the text, I open Scrivener again, I write a little bit, then I look at the clock and see it’s time for work-work so I close my project, done for the day.

I show up! I “write every day”! But when I engage all these distractions during my writing time, I’m not really with the work in that sacred, deep-flow, meaningful way that is, at the end of the day, the most precious thing about writing to me. My main motivation for writing is to know myself more deeply and express those discoveries with such precision that it might help others know themselves more deeply, too. How am I to reach that level of depth when I am toggling between my novel project and a Substack Note still debating girlhood think pieces?

cat on lap, surrounded by spiritual tools, taking selfies instead of writing

Distracted writing is still writing, but it’s not the writing I want to do. It drains the pleasure out of something that means so much to me. And, of course, it leads to a shitty fucking daily word count.

Last Sunday, I reviewed my weekly calendar and penciled in 2-hour blocks each day for dedicated writing time. To accommodate this, I’ve had to wake up a little earlier. I’ve had to cut off my sprawling morning reading time in order to have space for the 20 minute meditation I do before writing. I’ve had to leave text messages unanswered for longer than I’d like. It took me five days to respond to Substack comments on last week’s post.

But I revised a lot. I’ve sat my butt in the chair with determination and a vision. I sunk into the work, became “all about it.” None of my friends seem mad at me for the delayed texts, and not much else about my life has changed; this new habit of focused writing hasn’t added any time to my day, it has just changed the shape of how I relate to my time. Not only is my pace accelerating, but I’m feeling more connected to the project. Time-contained, non-distracted writing has offered me the room to get to know my characters’ desires—and thus, let’s be real, my own—more deeply. And it’s all just more pleasurable. I’m not dealing with the weird cavalcade of emotions that comes from clicking around on the internet.

Of course, I’m not perfect—I found myself unconsciously typing substack in the search bar sometimes. I did so seeking a dopamine hit, but what I discovered was that no matter what was on the other side of my clicking—a new comment, a new subscriber, whatever—it never felt as good as the time spent with my novel. Being immersed in my project is more fun than anything I could read or write on here.

Centering writing and approaching it with concentration feels so, so possible as long as I continue engaging with intention. The world isn’t going to bend for me in order to offer it. I have to bring this energy to the work, for the sake of myself.

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+ Reading: Playworld by Adam Ross was an unusual pick for me, but it was engrossing and a pleasant place to spend my mornings with a cup of tea. Katie Kitamura’s Audition was compelling from the start, then got weird, then got weirder. I loved it.

+ Recommending: my sister Kelsey’s really amazing tiktok, youtube channel, and etsy shop, bujowithkelsey! I am so inspired by the commitment and playfulness she brings to her bullet journaling projects. Not only do I find her videos calming, but I truly learn a lot about the creative process from watching her. She breaks through perfectionism and self-doubt to center joy and fun. This is how I want to show up for my writing <3

+ I’m cautiously & skeptically back on instagram, so gimme a follow if you want! not sure how I will use it yet—just on desktop? only at a certain time of day? recklessly and unintentionally, as I have in the past? We’ll see!