Reinforcements

Bryon Buck has the short and simple mental reminder:

If I don't do it, no one else will.

I like this. Short, simple, to the point.

Willa shows an incredible amount of self-discipline:

I simply tell myself, "You cannot go to bed until you write something that vaguely resembles a journal entry." It doesn't have to be good, it doesn't have to be introspective, but it has to be of a certain length, which I determine by looking at File Manager and seeing if it looks "long enough." If it does (and the yardstick gets shorter the later it is), it's finished. And I can go to bed. I'm not sure if that's positive or negative reinforcement. I mean, going to bed is positive, but I'm not really rewarding myself with sleep, I'm threatening myself with *no* sleep.

I can see how this method at the very least allows you to finish the day with some feeling of accomplishment. And it's not a terrible method -- if we weren't meant to write whenever and wherever we can, God wouldn't have invented laptop computers. (That was a joke, btw.)

Bill Chance tells of a strange and beautiful technique -- view the writing as the reward:

I'm sorry, I don't know if this is much of a help, but over the last six months I have begun to view writing as the reward - as in:

I'll mow the yard and then I'll reward myself by going somewhere and writing for an hour.

I'll fill out that stack of forms and then write for twenty minutes before I start on the next stack.

I'll play a game of Sorry with my kids if then they'll let me write until it's time to read a story.

Maybe you could fool yourself into looking at it that way.

Maybe it's the "going somewhere" that's the reward. I'm more and more tending to write in parks, restaurants, public places (the most peace and privacy that you can get - or at least I can get - is someplace busy).

I guess that if you view the writing as an unpleasant chore and that you need a reward to do it, you're getting away for the pure joy and release of the creative need, which is why we do this, after all.

You're probably looking at fear, and the only way to get through that is to face it for what it is.

Oh fine, Bill -- bring up the "pure joy and release of the creative need" angle. There's no question, though, that he's right: it is how you look at the "problem." Writing can be the punishment or the reward and it's how I look at it that makes all the difference.

Finding a new place to write does work for me a while, but like all incentives based on novelty, a new setting in and of itself wears off after a while.

Dave Filippi stands squarely behind setting a firm schedule (with a timer!):

I quit using positive and negative reinforcement not long into medical school. I had used to ration out things like computer-game time; i.e. if I study for 3 hours I play an hour of video game or some such. But that quit being effective.

What works best for me is simply setting a time schedule with a timer: 55 minutes of work followed by 10-15 minutes of lying on the hard floor, commanding my back muscles to relax. They spasm up and hurt for the first 10 minutes; then I get 5 minutes to relax them.

How to get the work done? The hardest part by far is the first minute, during which other possible activities or concerns obtrude on my frame of mind. After that, I get into a rhythm, recall that what I am doing (studying medicine) is something enjoyable, and you couldn't get me away from my book.

The trick is to remember that the activity is something you enjoy, before you start. Then you can start without resenting yourself.

What I want to know is, how does he convince himself to get off the damn floor? I'd enjoy it too much down there. Heck, I'd probably fall asleep.

I like the idea of setting a timer. Some physical reminder of how long you've been at it. It's like counting pages or number of words typed.

I also like the reminder that you have to tell yourself that "the activity is something you enjoy." You are in control of your mental approach.

Ceej, no stranger to working hard or having lots of distractions from that hard work, tells me I should put up the sign that says "Writing crap is OK!", among other inducements and self-reminders:

1. Make that sign and put it up. I have a huge sticky on my desktop that says: "You have permission to write a shitty first draft." This is one of two things I learned from Anne Lamott. (The other is, "take it one thing at a time." Bird by bird, in fact.)

2. I dunno what my reinforcements are. Usually I just remove all other possible activities from my immediate vicinity. I do the "trance out madly" approach to the writing mode. I put on the headphones and forget everything else. The idea is to make the rest of the world vanish so that there's just me and the keyboard and the empty file.

No appointments.

No significant other in the next room.

No distractions.

No other tasks to do.

Sometimes I use computer games as a reward. Write five pages and I'll let you play Eric's Ultimate!

The daily journal-writing warmup is a great thing to do. Start the brain->finger connection going.

MOST IMPORTANTLY remind yourself that you're good at this. This is what you were meant to do. It's the best use of you and your unique talents. If you were doing anything else, you'd be wasting your writing skills. You're good at it. You'll be even better at it before you're done. You're good at it. Really.

Everybody suffers from imposter syndrome, even big successful famous people. Congratulations! Your worries are normal! You're just like all the other writers!

GO GO GO GO GO GO GO GO GO!

Ceej mentions something important here, the imposter syndrome. Which I suffer from, in major ways. I'm terrified that Darin is going to find out that I'm stupid, ugly, and talentless, and I'm not even sure which adjective I'm the most upset about. If I don't write (or procrastinate so much that I couldn't possibly get any writing done), then no one needs to find out what a dork I really am. And no one needs to find out if I'm any good, either.

She also reminded me, by the way, of a really great book on the process of writing called Bird by Bird, by Anne Lamott. If you write -- in fact, if you breathe -- this is a good book to read. Her mention of it has made me go find it on my shelves and start reading through it again.

Joy Rothke thinks I'm focusing on the wrong idea:

I think the whole idea of reinforcement--positive or negative--isn't the point. As Hemingway said: "all first drafts are shit". So just work on that first crappy draft. Then maybe a detour to the ice cream shop.

But Joy...I go to the ice cream shop anyhow! (There's a Ben and Jerry's not too far away.) It's really hard to accept that the first drafts are going to be shitty. I have an innate perfectionist streak that tells me that each and every single thing I do must be perfect or it's not worth doing. It's a form of procrastination, of course. And of beating up on myself when I don't do something perfectly.

Tim Reid uses self-torture:

I'll admit it as well...positive reinforcement doesn't work for me because I'm just too into the pleasures of life to deny myself when they are readily available. So...I've come up with a list of things I must do if I don't sit down and paint/draw/write every day...here goes:

1. Clean the bathroom (as in really really clean)

2. Clean the refrigerator (same as above)

3. Not watch any TV - or only watch as much TV as I've managed to spend doing my artwork

4. Exercise (shudder) above my usual intensity level

5. Call my in-laws just to see how they are doing

You'd be surprised how motivated you can get if you can stick to this sort of punishment system. It may be a bit twisted, but whatever works.

I love my in-laws (hi there!), but I'm not sure I'd ever call them in order to convince myself to write more. I do clean out the refrigerator, but I do it the old-fashioned way. I should take up exercise again, if nothing else to see if I can rev up my energy level. Also, I have been informed by people who know that exercise is a good creative spur.

Lucy Huntzinger believes in exercise, as well as guilt, reading self-help books (been there! done that!), and eating carrots:

It sort of depends on how much I need to get the work done. Guilt is a great motivator for me until I pass a certain point; then, I start making deals. A lot of times, if I'm having to write something I just don't want to, I can motivate myself to keep going back to it purely on the basis of knowing once it's done I'll never ever have to write that damned paper again. If it's just making myself work on skills I want to have, like learning software or writing plays or something, I promise myself rewards such as books or an equal amount of play time at the MOO.

If I'm so depressed that all I can do is lay on my bed staring at the ceiling and remembering every failure I ever had, I make myself read one of my self-help books. They generally help me re-establish a sense of normality even if it's just to scoff at their jargon. If I'm really angry at myself (the other side of depression, natch), then I make myself exercise. Really. It's incredibly helpful. I usually feel a great deal better afterwards, and can sit down at the computer again.

No matter what the problem is, denial never works, and eating is a bad idea unless it's totally low-cal and I'm talking carrot sticks here. When I'm mad I eat a lot of carrots and celery. Crunch therapy is great.

Denial never works. Denial never works. Now there's a phrase to remember. Keeping a bowl of carrots and celery around is not a bad idea either, considering how often I roam around looking for something, anything, to munch on.

Joanna L. Castillo takes the simple way out by having a deadline:

In all honesty, the only thing that works consistently for me is having a fixed deadline...even if it's not directly related to the task at hand. For example, if I know I'm going out of town, I end up doing all kinds of things before I leave that I would normally put off...even if I'll only miss one day of work. It makes no sense and I often laugh at myself while I'm rushing around trying to get things done.

Deadlines are a great help. No question about that. They have to be fixed, external deadlines for me, though, like going out of town or a contest deadline or whatever. Saying, "I'll finish this by next week," is almost next to useless for me. I hate self-motivated people who can set internal deadlines and follow them.

Well, if you haven't sent me the mind games and mystical rituals you use to clamp your fingers to the keyboard (or to the easel, or to whatever else you like to do but can't seem to force yourself to do), please do so.