My writing process encompasses a particularly strange set of rituals, and although I have acknowledged to myself many times over the years that aspects of it might benefit from ‘a bit of a spruce,’ nothing has changed. I blame this on the fact that so far, this set of practices has yielded consistent results. Maybe there is a certain element of superstition in this as well, a fear of compromising the end product by altering the magical routine. Throughout this course, my hope is that I can learn to more fully understand the process of writing in order to differentiate which parts of my routine actually yield positive results and which are nothing more than superstitious crutches that can stand to, or might even benefit from, change.

Let me introduce you to my routine. It all begins with research, and lots of it. Before I can write a word of my paper or chapter, I have to read everything that I can find that has been previously written on the subject, until when I scan the references of a paper I have just finished reading I don’t see anything relevant to my topic that I haven’t already glanced through. I make notes on each of these publications in a word document on my computer. When I have finished taking notes I cut and paste the sections devoted to each article, arranging them into groupings that are relevant to the structure and organization of the paper I am about to write. At this point I usually take a break for a day or two, and this is when the main arguments of the paper take shape in my head. I won’t look at my notes, but I will spend a lot of time thinking about the paper while doing other things: showering, walking, cooking dinner, occasionally even while falling asleep. After this hiatus, I print the notes out and read through them again, underlining key phrases (colour-coded, of course, and with a specific type of coloured pen) and writing notes in the margin that outline both the main themes and the specific arguments I plan to make and explore. At this point I will also write a separate project outline on a legal pad (the caveats being that the legal pad has to be three-hole-punched, and that pen type is crucial), laying out the major sections of the paper and specifying which arguments and data are to be discussed in each.

Finally, it’s time to write. I like to have a low level of distraction when I write, which usually means listening to classical music – my entire Master’s thesis was written to Swan Lake. I do my most productive writing in the later afternoon and at night, after I have had time to get everything else that I need to do that day out of the way. At the point that I am ready to begin writing, the paper is usually so well composed in my thoughts that I sit in front of my computer and the whole thing flows out either in one sitting or in a small series of sittings consisting of several hours each. I find Luker’s suggestion that thoughts may be different when put into writing very interesting, and it makes me wonder how my writing might change if the initial composition of my projects were on paper rather than in my head. Given all of the mental preparation I have done, the first draft is usually quite coherent. I leave this draft for at least a day before I go through and edit. Often I will have a colleague read over a subsequent draft to check that my ideas flow coherently, and that I haven’t left any gaps in my argument based on knowledge that is in my head rather than on the page.

Once I start writing, the whole process happens quite easily. As you may have guessed based on my almost painfully long pre-writing routine, however, my problem is in beginning to write. I relate very strongly to Susan Sontag’s description of her writing process (from a Paris Review interview, as quoted on Brain Pickings): “I write when I have to because the pressure builds up and I feel enough confidence that something has matured in my head and I can write it down.” Without that pressure, and without that confidence that my thoughts have already matured enough to put them out in the world where others might see them, I can’t write a word. I would very much like to work on this. I would like to explore how my writing may change and hopefully improve with more of the writing process expressed externally, on the page.