These are my notes for the Long Beach branch of the California Writers Club:
This discussion began as an email exchange between myself and M.L. Welker, author of Blockbuster Blueprint. (Click on his title to find the book on Amazon.) As creative people who love to write, we wondered why we didn't do more of it, why we went long periods of time in between projects. My excuse had always been that I needed "more time" or "blocks of time" to write. But once I retired from my day job, I realized that just wasn't true. So did he.
So we called upon his knowledge of neuroscience and my knowledge of psychology, and between the two of us, we came up with an answer:
We were "stopping" because of a defense mechanism, because our subconscious minds were diverting us in order to protect us.
Our subconscious minds work a lot like my dog, Sgt. Thomas Tibbs.
Because he is fearful of the outside world, when we begin our walks every morning (and I mean every. single. morning. for the past seven years), he turns in front of me, attempting to gently herd me back home. Why? To protect me from a potentially dangerous world.
Our subconscious minds do the same, steering us gently away from people or situations that it (we, subconsciously) may perceive as threatening. This is on a primal level, and we're often not even aware that it's happening--and that is the key in regard to writing.
While on a conscious level, you may be very excited about a new project or idea you've had, and you can't wait to begin writing it all down, your subconscious mind is sending out a threat alert: "Danger, Will Robinson!"
Why? Because writing is a big, scary thing.
I don't mean this on a conscious level. On a conscious level, you have a great idea or ideas, and you are excited about getting to work on that story or essay or book.
Despite your enthusiasm, however, it's likely that your subconscious mind is experiencing fear and self-doubt, or is reviewing past negative messages, or is reluctant to allow your conscious mind to immerse itself in loneliness and isolation in order to complete the task. Let's face it, it's much more comfortable to immerse ourselves in the now available endless possibilities for successive Dopamine hits--social media, Youtube, Netflix, to say nothing of the good ol' TV and the hundreds of channels we can now surf through. For some of us, that Dopamine hit comes from a hike in the mountains or a bike ride. Your subconscious can use all of those choices to divert you from your writing project (just as Thomas attempts to divert me from our walk.)
How do we control these primal instincts and encourage our subconscious minds to work for us instead of contrary to our goals?
The answer is pretty simple, actually. Just be aware of what's going on, and give your subconscious credit for all the good stuff it does.
Keep in mind, your subconscious really does have your best interest in mind.
(Oh, sweet! Looks a bit like Thomas, doesn't it?)
I like to think that my dragon subconscious is truly my buddy guarding the treasure in my head. I just have to calm him down (like Harry Potter did with Buckbeak) to get him to stop guarding and allow me access.
Here's how to do that:
1. Regimen: Determine your best time to write, make a space for that time period in your life, and show up to the appointment. Our suggestion is that your goals are time-based instead of word-count or page-based.
2. Recognize: The writing process is as much subconscious as it is conscious. It's important to shut off the clamor and chaos of your daily routine. We recommend a few minutes of meditation or yoga or music or walking in order to allow yourself to get "in the zone" (also known as "trancing"--no, really).
3. Reward: Dopamine hits (cute puppies or kittens or grandkids, funny videos, or dark chocolate peanut butter cups) should be held out as a carrot before the horse. Or dragon. Or hippogriff.
4. Remind/Rewind/Review: As soon as you become productive and perhaps even successful, your subconscious will begin working overtime again, trying to convince you that this is scary stuff. (It is scary!) Remind yourself often that this is your unique story, told with your unique voice, and there really is an audience out there waiting to hear from you. Honest.
