Cross-posted from The Midnight Hour

In the same vein as yesterday's rant about doing the damn work, I thought I'd approach what I see as the single biggest difference between real writers and people who just like to call themselves writers for a variety of reasons. I call it discipline, but it's really something simpler. It's Doing It Every Day.

You absolutely cannot hope to come up consistently with a readable product if you don't write every day. You also can't expect your discipline to tide you over if you're not in the habit of doing it every day.The conventional wisdom is that it takes ninety days to make (or break) a habit, and habit is what your sitting-down-to-write must become.

Human beings are creatures of habit--I'd go so far as to say we specialize in it. It's such a powerful tool that we must be careful of it, and learn to use it consciously--or, I firmly believe, it will use us. Habit can be a best friend (when you're tired and you need some other motivation to sit down and bloody do the work) and worst enemy (when you've gotten into the surfing-for-just-a-few-minutes trap.)

I can't leave the question of habit without talking about timesuck. Timesuck is a habit run amok, something that keeps you from what you should be doing. My big timesucks are CatLOLs, Smart Bitches, and my f-list. (There. I've admitted it.) Easy bite-sized chunks of stuff that add up to hours per day--if I'm not careful.

There is a very simple, easy way to help a good habit settle in and keep a bad one in check. You can even buy it at the grocery store.

It's a kitchen timer. No, seriously.

I consider cheap, portable kitchen timers God's little gift to writers (along with commas and italic type, but that's another post.) Set it for a short amount of time and give your chosen timesuck your full attention. That way you won't feel deprived when it rings and you have to go back to working. Set it for a slightly longer time and write. No day is so busy you can't find ten minutes to write, and the timer relieves you of the responsibility of watching the clock. It also teaches you to sit down, cut out the sh!t, and produce.

But there's that critical component called Doing It Every Day. Sadly, there are no "tips" or "tricks" for this one. It must be sheer bloody-minded stubbornness. You have to want to do it, and want it badly enough that you will sit down and bloody well write even when you're tired, or not feeling well, or when you just don't want to do it again. The prospect of getting a paycheck motivates people to show up for their day jobs. You don't have that prospect in writing, really--or you have that prospect so infrequently as to be a laughable excuse for motivation. So the motivation to write has to come from somewhere else. I don't care where you find it, but you've got to find it somewhere or the whole experiment is doomed.

And you must, absolutely must, do it every day. Like anything else, writing demands practice. It's that practice that hones your craft. (Along with reading, but that's a different blog post.) Doing it every other day or once a week will not wash. If you do it every day, several things happen:

* You give yourself the clearest possible signal that this work is not going to go away, and that you are committed to it.

* You bolster the habit of just sitting down and putting your hands to the effing keyboard.

* You give yourself the opportunity to practice hard enough and long enough to start producing readable product.

* You give your writing a priority to match other priorities in your life.

This last one is where my sticking-point is. Too many folks who call themselves writers allow other parts of their life to put writing on the back burner, and that cannot happen. They say they need quiet to work, and as soon as they get that quiet place they'll Produce A Masterpiece.

Bullsh!t. If you can't work with distractions going on around you, you're never going to make it as a writer. I work with two home-schooled kids under twelve underfoot all day, the doorbell ringing, phone calls, and a kid to drive to college three times a week. Plus there's errands, volunteering at the bookstore, cooking dinner, laundry, and a whole host of other things.

I figure I could work in one of those seventies-era movie newsrooms. You ever watch All The President's Men? Remember the phones ringing, people yelling, distraction pouring through the air? Yeah. Like that. If you do not exercise your ability to focus through those distractions, you won't make it. Your time to write will expand in proportion to the importance you attach to writing and the gods-honest priority you give it.

It really comes down to a simple question. Is writing important enough for you to make it a priority and spend the work and time to do it every day through the distractions? If it is, great, sit your butt down and do it. Set your timer. Chain yourself to your chair if that's what it takes.

If it's not, great. Find something else to do with your time. Gods bless you on your journey.

But please don't call yourself a writer. This is hard work, and if you're not going to do it...well, you don't need that title.

'Nuff said.