Dealing with Internal Distractions (or How to Get Out of Your Own Head)

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One of the most frustrating aspects of writing is dealing with distractions. You could be making steady progress on your current work-in-progress, only to be derailed by interruptions and negative thought patterns. But to be successful, or at least to successfully complete that beloved work-in-progress, you need to figure out a way to conquer those distractions.

There are two types of distractions: external and internal. External sources of distraction occur outside your work space. It could be extraneous noise, like ambulance sirens blaring in your neighborhood, the sound of drilling as construction work is being done outside your window, or a group of children playing. There could also be external interruptions closer to home–the frequent ringing of your phone, the sudden desire to do housework or the constant temptation to check your social media for updates.

For the purpose of this post, I’m focusing on internal distractions–the ones that claim valuable headspace. Those thoughts are often counterproductive, derailing you from your best creative efforts. There are five internal distractions that I’ve come across in my writing practice, and I’ve given each of them a name. You’ve probably met them at some point too. 

For each “character,” I’ll briefly describe how each one interferes with your writing practice and what you can do to limit its impact.

Negative Nellie
Nellie is a chatterbox who won’t stop talking about what a horrible writer you are. Her negative self-talk grates on your nerves and drains your self-confidence. If you keep listening to her, her words will sink in and you’ll begin to believe all the negative comments she makes. Negative Nellie is adept at pointing out all your faults and suggesting how you will never measure up.  Negative Nellie’s main purpose is to slow you down enough to make you rethink your career as a writer.

To offset Nellie’s negativity, you have to remain positive. To turn those negative thoughts into positive action, try repeating some affirmations. Here are a few examples, or you can create your own:

* I’m a talented and creative writer who works hard to develop my craft.
* I write every day with passion, enthusiasm, and determination.
* I experience joy whenever I write.

Debbie Doubter
Debbie is Nellie’s close cousin. They’re very similar in mindset, though Debbie isn’t as relentless in her derailing efforts as Nellie. Still, her words can hurt you by prompting you to question yourself. “What made me think I could become a writer?” or “No one will ever want to read what I’ve written.” Once you begin to doubt yourself, you lose faith in your writing, and you lose heart. If enough doubts set in, you might give up on writing altogether.

What you need at times like this is more confidence. One way to gain that confidence–and keep the self-doubt at bay–is to focus on your small successes. Did you write only 300 words when you were aiming for 1000? Congratulate yourself on those 300 words. Did you finally finish that chapter you’ve been slaving over for the past week? Great! That’s one more milestone you’ve reached. When you celebrate each small success, confidence builds over time.

Wendy the Worrier
Wendy wastes much of her time worrying about things that will likely never happen. That’s because her thoughts are geared toward the future instead of being focused on the present. “But what will you do if you fail?” she might ask. “What about your regular job? You can’t give that up just to write full time.” 

The solution to all this worry about the future is to stay in the present. The truth is we can’t control what happens in the future, but we can control what we do in the here and now–like writing. We can control what we write and how much we write. But we can’t control how people will respond to our writing. Their emotional responses belong to them. Focus on what’s important now, and the future will take care of itself in its own time.

Unfocused Fiona
Fiona is a distraction magnet. Every little thing bothers her. She can’t concentrate on any of her work because her mind is drawn to so many things, like activities she’d rather be doing on a fine summer day or knowing that her friends are out enjoying dinner while she has to finish the  next chapter. Maybe you had an argument with your spouse, and you’re still feeling upset about that and can’t concentrate. Or maybe you’ve learned a loved one has died. Emotional disruptions can interfere with your productivity too because you’re thinking about those episodes rather than on your current project.

The antidote to Fiona’s lack of concentration is to work in small bursts. Rather than one long writing session of, say three hours, work for twenty minutes, then if you feel up to it, do another twenty minute session later. Those smaller sessions don’t require as much emotional or physical energy. The fact is being under such emotional duress isn’t going to help your writing. If, even these shorter sessions don’t work, then take a break from writing and exercise self-care for your emotional needs. Another option is to work on non-writing tasks that will still give you a sense of accomplishment. Try sketching out a few scenes or sorting through files. 

Critical Chris
I’ve saved Critical Chris for last because she is the most disruptive relative of all, and I think she affects almost every writer. Critical Chris can’t help herself. She’s down on everyone. No matter  how talented another writer is, she’ll find fault with their writing. “It’s too business-like. You’re not writing for corporate executives.”  “There’s too much dialogue.” or “Is this the best you can do? I’ve seen ten-year-olds write better stuff than this.”

Admittedly, it’s hard to shut off the criticism. But it’s imperative to try. For every criticism, reframe it as a positive statement. For example, if Critical Chris complains that there’s too much dialogue, your reframed response might be: “Sure, but the situation calls for it in the story.” Or “it’s only the first draft; I’ll fix it during the revision.”

If any of these characters are frequent visitors in your headspace, acknowledge that they’re there, then find a way to minimize their distraction. Most importantly, keep writing. Writing is a form of therapy. 

Have any of these internal distraction characters interrupted your writing life? How did you handle them?

Amid Chaos, Stories Matter Even More

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Imagine if we lived in a world where there were no stories–no stories to write, to tell, to read, to enjoy, to make us laugh and to make us cry. Where would we as humans be? How could we live? What would we know and understand about our lives?

Writing stories matters. But for those stories to matter, they need to be conceived and written.  That’s where writers and creatives come in. The world–as chaotic and uncertain as it may be–needs us.

If you’ve ever stopped to wonder why you’re putting yourself through the emotional and physical turmoil of writing stories, think about all the good you’re doing for the world, for your audience, and most importantly, for yourself.

Tiffany Yates Martin said it best in the latest issue of Writer’s Digest (print version, so no link is available to the article.) We may feel overwhelmed by the chaos happening around us to the point that we can’t find the motivation to write. Yet that is exactly when writing stories matters the most. 

Yates Martin outlined five reasons that stories matter through turbulent times:

  • Stories offer solace and hope. Stories offer comfort, especially during times of unrest. They not only offer an escape from our troubles and worries, Martine writes, they remind us of what’s important and what’s worth fighting for.
  • Stories connect us in a divided world. Because stories provide insight into the human condition through alternative perspectives, we can learn to understand the universal longings and struggles that others experience. We might understand what motivates people we might disagree with, and perhaps see them as just as complex, flawed and wounded as we are.
  • Stories make sense of the senseless. Our world is often messy and complex. Stories can help us make sense of the chaos by offering logic and cohesion. It may offer a big-picture view that we may not have considered.
  • Stories give a voice to the voiceless. Stories can highlight the injustices and oppression that others might experience, and thus heighten our awareness of it. Consider The Diary of Anne Frank which put a human face on the plight of Jews during the Nazi regime.
  • Stories can change the world. Stories can broaden and impact people’s views, which in turn can spark needed change. For example, Uncle Tom’s Cabin fueled the abolitionist movement that ended slavery. While our own writing won’t necessarily change society on a grand scale, it might change individuals in some way by providing inspiration and insight that they might not have had before.

While Yates Martin speaks about the collective reasons for writing stories, there are personal ones too. We all have our personal reasons for writing and telling stories. I’ve compiled my own list of reasons below:

  • Writing stories presents a new challenge to my skillset. I’ve always been a competent business writer, but writing fiction is a totally different animal. It wasn’t enough to be a good writer and string a series of sentences to create a cohesive thought. The question I wanted to answer for myself was: Could I become a good storyteller? Storytelling requires a different skillset than business journalism. Learning how to tell a good, compelling fiction story was a new challenge.
  • Writing stories calms me and keeps me grounded. With so much turmoil and uncertainty in the world, writing stories gives me a safe space away from all that. When I can put those disruptive news stories out of my mind, I can focus on what really matters to me–my writing.
  • Writing stories is one thing I can control. With everything happening around us–from weather-related disasters to social and political strife–it can feel like the world is out of control or that we have no control over our environment. And in many cases, we can’t. I may not have control over the unsettling changes taking place in our world, but I do have control over the stories I write. I can control the direction of the plot, the narration, the dialogue, the way the characters may grow and change. I can control how the story ends–usually in a peaceful, happy way.
  • Writing stories allows me to give free rein to my imagination. Otherwise, those brilliant ideas dancing in my brain will only remain trapped there. By writing them down, I’m bringing them to life.
  • Writing stories enables me to communicate a message to others. This is usually through the story’s theme or a character’s words of wisdom. I might be too afraid to speak for myself, so through stories, I can let a character do the talking for me.

The next time you feel tempted to walk away from your desk and give up on your story, or if you have trouble finding the motivation to write, think about why you do this. Why do you write stories? Why are you writing this particular story? Because writing stories not only can change the world, it can change you. 

Seven Signs That You’re Sabotaging Your Writing Practice

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Hi readers, I was about to do a story about self-sabotage. Then I realized I already posted about this topic several years ago. Here’s a repost of that article for those of us who struggle with self-sabotage tendencies. Enjoy.

A writing practice is only as successful as your level of commitment to it. The more committed you are to a regular writing practice, the more consistent your output. Makes sense, right?

But what happens when you get oh-so-close to finishing your manuscript, but never seem to get around to finishing it? What happens when you do finish a story, but never seem to get around to submitting it to editors for possible publication? What if, instead of finishing your manuscript, you suddenly find other more pressing things to do, like clean the garage or spend more time with your mother-in-law? Is it really a matter of changing priorities? Or is something else going on?

I’m certainly guilty of these behaviors as I’m sure many other writers are. Psychology experts suggest that these patterns of behavior – procrastination and self-sabotage – are inbred in us. No one is immune to them. Even the most successful published authors have admitted that they have utilized these sabotage tactics.

It’s tempting to blame your tendency for self-sabotage on external factors, such as a demanding family life or a faulty computer. But unfortunately, blaming outside factors is a waste of time and energy. The only thing that is standing in the way of your own success is you. It’s time to get out of your own way.

From my experience, I’ve noted seven signs that you may be sabotaging your writing practice.

1. You stop writing indefinitely. You could be coasting along with your writing practice, meeting your daily writing goals and making steady progress on your story. You feel confident about your accomplishment. But then you stop writing. Why? What went wrong?

Maybe you got a negative review of your latest work that stops you in your tracks. Maybe you look at your life and question whether anyone else would find stories of your childhood interesting. Maybe you’ve read so much about writing that you feel overwhelmed and feel unsure how to begin your next project.

Giving up on your craft is not the answer. Letting your ideas fade into the distant past and collect dust isn’t the answer either. If you stop writing, but you still want to write, you need to figure out why. Give yourself a deadline of, say three days, to regroup and contemplate why you have stopped writing. Maybe it is a need for a mental break. If so, then when you are sufficiently rested, get back to work. The important thing is to keep writing. Ironically, it may be the very act of writing that breaks you out of your malaise.

2. You focus on the negative. You overanalyze your own writing and decide it’s simply not good enough – You’re not good enough. You constantly look for what’s wrong with your technique than with what’s right. All this focus on the negative qualities of your writing can undermine your confidence. Too much analysis can freeze you in place. The next time this happens, have one or two people review your work and give you positive feedback – something to keep you motivated so you keep writing.

3. You take criticism too personally. It can be disheartening to hear negative feedback about a piece you’ve been working on for weeks. Don’t let it paralyze you. Some critique is necessary. See the feedback as an opportunity to improve your writing. Most important, don’t take it personally.

4. You constantly compare your work with others. So what if other writers have more experience than you do or they’ve had more stories published. You need to remember that they started at the beginning at some point. Stop comparing yourself at the beginning of your career to someone else who is further along. That’s like comparing apples to bananas. You will never get ahead that way. If possible, try to stay in your own lane.

In this situation, you might also need to re-evaluate your goals and expectations. Have you set them too high? Are they unrealistic? It may be time for a rethink of your expectations to make them more manageable.

5. You don’t believe you have anything worthwhile to write about. Everyone has stories to share. Just because you think you don’t have anything interesting to write about doesn’t mean you don’t have anything interesting to write about. It’s all perception. When you feel your work is not worth reading, it can be tempting to stop writing. Again, keep writing until you find a story worth telling others. If needed, ask someone to read your work.

Every experience in life counts for something. Every experience is worth writing about. The story is your perception of events as they unfolded and how they impacted your life. Believe that there’s a story everywhere you look. Believe that you do have something worthwhile to share – then start writing about it.

6. You focus too much on the past. We’ve all suffered failures in our lives. We’ve all made mistakes. We’ve all had situations that did not work out. Understandably, we don’t want to repeat those mistakes. Learn from those mistakes, then move on. Just because you made them once before does not mean you will make them again. Stop focusing on the past and stay focused on the present.

7. You focus too much on the future. Perhaps you dream of earning your own byline in a high-profile magazine or you are determined to get your manuscript published. But those goals are meaningless if you haven’t written a single word. It’s easy to get way ahead of ourselves, but just as in point #6 above, it’s imperative to stay in the present moment.

You can’t change the past and you can’t control the future. So you might as well stay in the present and make the most of it – by writing.

What Is The Best Format for Your Story Idea: Novel, Novella or Short Story?

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Imagine that you’ve come up with a great idea for a story. You haven’t seen it published anywhere else, and you’re sure that people would read it. Only question is: should you write it as a short story, a novella or a novel?

“What’s the difference?” you might ask. 

Word counts is the short and easy answer. Depending on the length of your story, it may fall into one of several story categories:

* Novel–70,000 to 100,000 words (although some novels have been less than 70,000 words and others have exceeded the upper limit, depending on genre.)

* Novella–17,500 words to 40,000 words

* Novelette–7,500 words to 17,500 words

* Short story–Less than 7,500 words

With short stories, there’s an economy of words and action. Since you don’t have a lot of space, descriptions, backstory and exposition are limited, and there are no subplots. Full-length novels allow more time and space for exposition and backstory, setting and character development. Short stories are like a weekend getaway while novels are a month-long retreat at a luxury spa. Novellas, which fall in between, are more like your typical one-week vacation.

To learn more about these differences, check out this helpful resource from Reedsy about word counts for different genres.

How do you know where your story idea fits? Should it be a short story, a novella or a novel?.

To answer this question, I recommend fleshing out your story idea as much as you can. Jot down scene ideas, characters, plot points using post-it notes or index cards. The more details you have about your story will determine what type of format you’ll need. 


Once you’ve plotted your scenes and made your character list, consider these questions:

1. What is the main problem the characters are trying to resolve? Is it a complex problem with layers of complications? Or is it fairly simple and straightforward?

2. Are there any subplots? A full-length novel might have one or two subplots while a short story and novella won’t have any.

3. How many characters are featured in your story? If there are a few characters, it’ll most likely be a short story. Longer sagas like historical fiction or science fiction/fantasy will likely have a cast of several dozen, while a short story will be limited to a handful of people. Romance novels are roughly a dozen or less.

4. Are you writing this story in multiple POVs? More likely, it’ll fall into the novel category. You won’t see multiple POVs in a short story. You might find one other POV in a novella.

5. What is your story’s genre? Historical fiction and fantasy tend to run longer, around 100,000 words. Romance novels tend to be between 70,000 to 90,000 words. Understanding your genre will help you determine whether your story should be a novel, novella or short story.

If after answering these questions, you’re still not sure what format your story should take, try this exercise. Write the story first as a short story with one point of view, a few essential characters and limited backstory. Keep to the necessary action. Then set it aside for a few weeks. Come back to it later with a fresh eye or have a friend or writing colleague review it with you. Decide what works and what doesn’t. 

If the story seems complete as is, then it probably works best as a short story. But if you feel there’s more to the story than what you wrote, rewrite your story, this time as a novella (up to 40,000 words). This time add the elements you think are missing, whether that’s world building, setting or characters. Maybe present a second point of view. 

When you’re finished, review it again. Does the story work better? If in doubt, ask a couple of beta readers to review the manuscript and give you feedback. If, based on their feedback, you still want to expand the story, perhaps add a subplot, then you can rewrite it as a full-length novel. 

The point is to start small and work your way up, testing out your story idea at each phase to see which format works best.  

Here’s another exercise to try: Visit your local bookstore or library, or browse your own collection. Note the size and length of certain genres. Some genres simply work better as shorter pieces. Historical fiction and fantasy tend to be longer while romance works well as a novella. .

Throughout this creative process, trust your instinct. More often than not, your gut will tell you what format will work best for your story idea. When you close your eyes and visualize what the story looks like, sometimes you just know what format your story should be. 

Deciding what format your story should be isn’t as difficult as you might think. The magic comes when you begin to see your story come to life on the page.