Writing practice
Writing practice is what it sounds like: we practice writing. We write deeply, almost automatically. Without thinking or editing – no second-guessing allowed!
The goal is to explore the deepest corners of our mind, not to produce beautiful pieces of text.
We choose a prompt, set a timer and, go! – we keep our hand moving for that length of time. If we get stuck, we write, ‘I’m stuck.’ If we suddenly remember we didn’t clean the litter box this morning, we write, ‘I didn’t clean the litter box this morning.’
Even when we believe a certain idea is an intrusion in our mind, we treat it like a messenger: what is this sudden thought trying to tell me about that thing I’m writing about?
I discovered the power of this practice while writing my novel in Spanish, Deformación A Rotura [Breaking Point]. Before starting each chapter or scene, I’d do five minutes of writing practice. Once, I was struggling to convey how my protagonist, Tomi, felt pushed towards emotional eruption only to be pulled back at the last minute, expected to return to a calm presence. I couldn’t find the right way to express this push/pull feeling.
During my writing practice – I don’t remember why – I found myself describing how to stop scampi from overcooking: “dump the scampi into salted boiling water and bring the water back to a roiling boil. After one minute, ‘shock’ them by immediately transferring them to a bowl with iced water and ice cubes.”
And there it was – exactly the pattern I needed for Tomi’s emotional state. The magic of writing practice allowed the perfect metaphor to emerge – not from planning and strategizing, but from letting my mind wander freely on the page. Or, as Natalie Goldberg puts it, allowing the mind to “go wild.”
Would you be interested in joining a Writing Practice group?
Carolina Perez Sanz 