I’m doing it again. And I’m not ashamed! Not one bit.
I’m being promiscuous with my book projects. Even though I am still knee-deep in the drafting of one book project, I decided it’s also a good time to get rolling on the next one.
Traditional writing advice suggests that this is a bad idea. That it might cause me to lose steam or even abandon Project A for the “shiny new thing” of Project B. That I’m just using Project B as a distraction because something’s not working in the universe of Project A. That paying attention to two projects at once will make them harder to finish and also not as good.
These are all valid concerns. But this is very much a Know Thyself Moment. As I look back on the last several big projects I’ve taken on, it turns out I’m always cheating on Project A with Project B, at least a little bit. Like I said: promiscuous.
The current Project A, for example, started as Project B while I was writing Photographic Presidents. And Photographic Presidents served time as Project B while I was finishing Making Photography Matter. And Making Photography Matter . . . well, you get the idea. I have a pattern of beginning the new thing before finishing the current thing.
Here are a few reasons why I think I do it. Maybe they’ll connect with you, too.
I will need external support to write the next one. This is the practical reason. For example, right now I have a calendar in mind for applying for fellowships to support the writing of Project B. That means I need to invest time and energy now, to get the foundations for that project in place so that I can secure future support to write it.
I need to know what’s next. This would be the emotional reason. Knowing there will be a next project makes it easier to focus on finishing the current one. And easier to envision it as a finished book. Having Project B waiting in the wings takes away the preciousness of Project A. It’s becomes just the thing I’m writing now. Because I know there will be another thing after this, I can be looser and more forgiving with the work. Always a good thing.
I should make a couple of things clear about my version of promiscuity. The first is that my promiscuous projects are always at different stages. As I noted above, right now I am actively drafting Project A, while Project B is still very much in the planning stages. I don’t believe I could sustain the drafting of, say, two research-intensive non-fiction books at the same time. Second, in many cases the Project B work I’ve undertaken with previous projects has been purposely passive. I wrote about that in 2019 and called it “how to start a creative project without really trying.” Rather than repeat myself on that point here, I decided to share that full discussion with you below. Please enjoy a post from the archives!
But first, a little birthday announcement…
The Book Coach Is 3!
This month marks the third birthday of my book coaching business. Happy birthday, little buddy! It’s been challenging to build the coaching business while professoring at the same time, but totally worth it. I love coaching and mentoring writers of all kinds, and my coaching clients have amazing projects. It takes guts to get vulnerable with your writing and especially to share it in its earliest, messiest stages. I’m honored to have my clients’ trust as we work together to figure out what they want to say and why.
The internet tells me that three years old is typically the age when human children begin to tell stories. To commemorate this third, storyful birthday, I’ve decided to take advantage of having an extra day this year.
I’ve declared Leap Day, Thursday, Feb. 29, “The Book Coach Is In” day!
Huzzah! (Cue bells and trumpets.) I’m setting aside three 30-minute, virtual time slots for any newsletter subscribers who want to chat informally about a book idea or work-in-progress, or just writing in general. Any kind of project is welcome: fiction, memoir, non-fiction, academic. This is a free, one-off, informal thing. I won’t be upselling you. I’m not taking in new coaching clients at the moment; my plate is full. I just think it will be a fun way to celebrate my third birthday by sending good writing vibes out into the universe.
If you want to sign up, here’s the link with some times I’m available (central time). First come, first served, and all that. I hope to see three of you on Feb. 29!
Now, as promised, here’s that piece from 2019…
How to start a creative project without really trying (originally published Sept. 2019)
I just finished a big project and turned it in last week. It's not finished forever, because the manuscript will come back to me for revision in a few months' time. But for now I feel done and that feels good. And it means I'm free to move on to the next thing. [2024 update: dear reader, that “next thing” is now the current Project A.]
I know generally what my next big project will be, and yesterday I sat down with my process journal to decide how I want to get started. (If you're not sure what a process journal is, check out my February 2019 newsletter for an explanation). I admit that I was more than a little anxious. After five years of near-constant focus on the just-finished thing, it feels a bit scary to be starting from scratch on the new (and very different) thing. But as I reflected in the journal and made a list of everything I have gathered so far, I realized I'm not starting from scratch at all. Because it turns out that my creative unconscious has been working on the new thing largely without me.
A few years ago, after I read famed choreographer Twyla Tharp's The Creative Habit, I took a cue from her and started a project box. Whenever Tharp starts a new work, she takes an empty cardboard box and begins filling it with anything and everything that could possibly be connected to her evolving idea - songs, images, books, videos of rehearsals. As the dance evolves, so do the contents of the box. My project box for the new thing is both literal and virtual. The physical box holds books, early notes and ideas, and archival material in the form of letters, photographs, and ephemera. In virtual "boxes" set up in Evernote and Scrivener I've been gathering other research materials, links, and more notes and ideas. Over time, these all became places for socking away materials for the new thing while I was still working on the old thing. And yesterday I figured out that I have gathered so much more than I realized. The project is well underway.
If you are someone who tends to get distracted by shiny new ideas, or yearns to start the pretty, fresh thing while you're still knee-deep in the old thing, the project box might work for you. It gives you a place to put ideas to retrieve later, when it's time. But it's also a place where your project can creatively evolve largely without your active engagement. In a universe where productivity is often prioritized over and against creativity, it's pretty amazing to realize that your project has been swimming along just beneath the surface of your attention. And it's even more wonderful when you know that now is the time to dive in.
Okay, back to 2024.
What’s happening around here?
I’m cutting . . . words from a book chapter. Most chapters of this draft are between 5000-6000 words. This one ballooned to 13,000. (You read that right. Embarrassing to admit, but this is how things go sometimes. Yikes!) Three weeks of editing got it town to just over 8000. Still too long, but I need a break from it. I’m moving on and will return with fresh eyes in the weeks to come.
I’m climbing . . . bedside table Book Mountain, pictured here. The usual mix of fiction and non-fiction with a little poetry tossed in - not my usual genre but Jay Hulme recently spoke here in Champaign-Urbana and The Vanishing Song is amazing.
I’m eating . . . the second round of Girl Scout cookies. We ordered round one in January from our great-niece Frida. Round two just arrived from our great-niece Eleanor. Just doing what I can to support young female entrepreneurs, of course. And in case anybody asks? One serving of Thin Mints is one sleeve. You heard it here first.
I’m welcoming . . . new subscribers! Thanks for signing up! In related news, thanks to Jenell Johnson for shouting out Finnegan’s Take at our “Developing as a Writer” panel at the Midwest Winter Workshop this past weekend. If this newsletter were a paying gig, I would give you an agent fee. As it is, I’ll buy a round next time I see you!
Happy writing - see you all next month!