this is how we do; 10 things writers do in order to...write.

“A writer never has a vacation. For a writer life consists of either writing or thinking about writing.”

- Eugene Ionesco

So, I’ve been doing a lot of writing lately. Working by day, blogging by night, and scribbling down just about any thought that comes into my head (or obsessively Facebooking and emailing) in between. Besides the weekend in college when I read the entire first volume of Proust and only stopped to pop another caffeine pill, and the week before the dissertation deadline when I stupidly, stupidly, stupidly! decided to rewrite the entire last chapter despite the fact that it had been done for months (and only stopped to pop another…no, never mind), this has perhaps been the most productive week of my life. And I can proudly say there were no pills involved. Turns out, while writing can be “a dog’s life” as Flaubert said, it can also be pretty great. You get to work from home, which in my case is a beautiful one; you get to set your own schedule, which in my case is non-stop save for the 5 minutes I spend on Jeremy Clarskon; you get to wear whatever you want (which as you’ll soon learn, varies); and most importantly, and you probably know what’s coming next, you get to smoke. Correction, you get to chain-smoke. What? I’m a writer. It’s how we do. Dawg. (I hope my landlord doesn’t read my blog—its fiction, all fiction, dawg). But between the words and the cigarettes, I also got to thinking about other things we writers do. For while it may all seem cool and breezy to your average office slave, it still is, nonetheless work. And precisely in order not to be cool and breezy about it, there are certain things you need to do. To force, encourage or inspire yourself to work. So, as I’m totally riding the list train lately, here are ten things writers, or this writer does, in order to make it happen.

1. Dress like you’re going sailing or yachting. You know, lots of navy, lots of white, TODS moccasins, maybe a little scarf if you really want to go all out. This way, every time you get up to go and pee and you see yourself in the mirror…you’ll feel like you’ve just stepped off your yacht and are about to step back on. Works like a charm, this one. There is, after all, some truth to the whole fake-it-til-you-make-it business.

2. Drape your chair with some silk or velvet so that it looks more like a throne than a work chair. Ick, really don’t like the w word. Actually…maybe mine looks more like a gypsy’s or fortune teller’s chair right now, but whatever, as long as it doesn’t look like a writer’s one, it’s all good.

3. Turn off your phone. Boy do I love doing this. Sorry mom, I’m fine, I’m alive, I’m well. Nobody killed me on the way to the supermarket, no lamppost fell on my head, I’m not lying in a ditch. I’m just writing. And yes, I brushed my teeth. Stop worrying.

4. Listen to opera. Preferably in a language that you don’t understand. That way you wont stop working to get up and sing along every once in a while. Damn you MJ. No, no, no “pretty lady with the high heels on”…sit, work, write! “You give me fever like I never ever known!” What? My iPod was on shuffle!

5. Don’t put the iPod on shuffle. “Sex bomb sex bomb you’re my sex bomb! You can give it to me when you…” in fact, remove Tom Jones and co. from your music collection altogether. Awww, but my neighbors will be disappointed! The ones across the way who see the show that is, The Sex Bomb Sailor show! The ones above and below me will probably be grateful. (Oh those “above and below” innuendos are so inviting…but I’ll stay away from them for now. That’s the other thing writers do—we focus.)

6. Empty the ashtray every once in a while. No, not much inspiring or thought provoking in this one, but it still needs to be done.

7. Which reminds me. Open the windows. Call it whatever you want but it’s supposed to resemble an office not a hotbox.

8. Don’t put Jeremy Clarkson’s Sunday Times Column on your desk as incentive to hurry up with your work so you can get to your pleasure. The face he has in that picture just says, “I’m bored, and you should just give up, you’re never, ever, going to be me.” (Gee, talk about a picture saying a thousand words).

9. If you’re going to drink while you write (and I try, for the most part, not to) don’t leave the bottle on your desk. Put it somewhere far away in the fridge, so that in the time it takes to walk over you might think twice before refilling that glass. If you don’t, you’ll just refill and empty your glass to the rhythm of the sentences…and after a while, the shentences, let me tell you, the shentences, are bound to lose their…rithim. Hic!

10. Whatever you do, don’t consult the Urban Dictionary as a reference. You’ll come across hundreds of interesting new words…or old words with new meanings…and you’ll find yourself reading through the 919 synonyms for “pussy” instead of writing 919 words of your own. “Dick mitten.” It was a tough call, but that has to be my new favorite. Incidentally, it’s also called a “pearl hotel.” Fancy that!