SquawkRadio

The most common question asked an author has got to be, “What is your process? How do you *work*?” Every time I’ve been asked this question I’ve come up with a different answer because I don’t have a process. And ugly as I know it to be, sometimes I just say stuff ‘cause it sounds good. Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m not this way by choice.

I go to workshops by famous authors, I listen, I nod, I agree and I leave convinced that if I were to just follow the pearl strewn path to success the famous author has kindly dropped to lead me and others like me to the promised land of authorial efficiency, I would be a happier and, more importantly, more productive. Everything makes sense in a workshop or an interview or, hopefully, a blog. There’s a beginning, middle and end. There’s a problem and a solution, there’s a question and an answer. But writing isn’t like that. At least not for me. It’s a mess. An ugly Petri dish experiment run amuck where a damp and fetid imagination (mine) is seeded with a few kernels of inspiration (sometimes mine) which I then spend months attempting to colonize into a good Roquefort blue. See what I mean? Even simple analogies run away screaming.

I have friends who actually do have a process. They do not understand me and I do not understand them. They have been known to call me up and when apprised of how I have spent my day, hang up in disgust. You know who you are. I think this is unfair. Do you think I want to be process-less? Do you think I want a Petri dish imagination? Do you think it’s pleasant to anticipate Roquefort and end up with penicillin? It’s not. It’s frustrating, inefficient and downright embarrassing. But it’s also the truth and in the future if you should ever hear me expound upon my process in an interview or article, be advised that that I am without a doubt a> talking about the process that worked for that single book b> talking about someone else’s process that sounded really good c> outright lying d> expressing a hope because I, Connie Brockway, have no reliable, recognizable, habitual process (but neither does, Terri, so there! And Christina had one but she packed it up when she moved and hasn’t unloaded yet. And Liz’s process is on hiatus and Eloisa’s process is Italian and hasn’t learned to speak English yet and Lisa’s is still catching up on its sleep after being on tour.)

How about the rest of you? Whether in writing or some other area of your life, do you have a fall back stance? Do you have a routine you can count on to get you from point a to b? Tell me what it is, or isn’t.