Schneider, Pat. "Getting Started (Again)." Writing Alone and With Others. New York: Oxford University Press, 2003.

This chapter addresses the habits of writers, from superstitions (using a certain pen) to what time of day works. Schneider says writers that worry too much about these habits are probably blocked or beginners who want to know what makes writing "work".

However, she also acknowledges that "each of us has idiosyncracies, habits, and inclinations, and those peculiar traits are often linked to our creativity" (24). I have to agree that there are certain writing exercises that I like to do before I start a new chapter, and that my writing tends to come easiest either early in the morning or late at night. I don't HAVE to do these things, but it helps.

Most of all, (the writer) "need(s) space, privacy, and time, and you need to be constantly learning, growing. YOu need to know how to begin again" (24). If you stop writing for awhile, it's so much more difficult to begin again. During the academic year, I become detached from my longer works and it's difficult to go back to them -- I forget details, or just don't care as much about the work when I return to it. I'll be thankful when I have less work to do after this year, and can concentrate more on less students, as well as my own work.

Schneider mentions that the solitude does not necessarily mean being alone; solitude can be found in workshops. "Thousands of times I have seen it in a writing workshop where we write together in silence. A kind of solitude happens there, where each of us works silently and protects the other's privacy. In that setting, miracles happen: The writer writes clear, clean narrative; surprising juxtapositions; metaphoric images; insights that the writer himself or herself does not perceive until it is read aloud and named by listeners" (27). And I find this is true; in a community of writers, there is support for what you're doing, for searching for the right words to convey meaning and encouragement when you struggle. There is no expectation of an end product, necessarily, but just respect for the creation of the written word.