Four Gentle Ways to Raise (Write) a Good Book Like It's a Dog
First off, apologies. This is late. It’s going to be short. I had a two-day turnaround for a writing client on their 90,000-word novel on top of my normally scheduled work and I’ve been a bit frantic.
I will make it up to you, I promise. But right now, I’m a little punchy and a little weird so I bring you this: Dogs and Writing.
Books and dogs have a lot in common. That’s why we had a podcast about dogs, life, and writing, right?
You can apply some of the lessons of training your dog to training your book. Really. Read on.
Find a space to write
Just like training a dog requires some dedicated space if you’re working on agility or sit/stay commands, your book can blossom if you have a dedicated place to write.
This space needs to be what works for you. Kid free? Kid friendly? Music? No music? Cozy? Standing? Surrounded by books? Surrounded by nothing?
Create a space where writing happens. Kindly boot out the old plates, the yelling kids, the licking dogs if you need to. Or hoard them. There is no one right way to create your writing space.
Here’s the thing:
Your book and your writing is important. Create a space for it.
That said, just like training your dog can and should happen anywhere, so can writing and thinking about writing. You can find a character at the grocery store. You can get a plot inspiration at the YMCA. It’s all about living that literary life with intention and being a writer always.
More on that: Make the space for the book
When I talk about making space for the book (or blog post or poem or essay), I’m not just talking about the mechanics of writing the book. I’m talking about the space for it to breathe.
Books can be brats. Blog posts can, too. Sometimes they need room to grow and breathe. Make sure you take time to step away from the actual physical writing of your book so that inspiration can hit, problem solving can happen.
Sometimes stepping away to give that baby some independence is exactly what it needs to grow.
Even dogs need a little quite time and not constant stimulation. There’s a reason for that. It lets them recharge. You and your book need to recharge, too.
Play
When we were kids, writing stories was play. It was fun. Now, a lot of us think of it as work. We think of work and play as two separate things.
They don’t have to be.
Play with your story. Enjoy it.
Dogs learn things and acquire new skills because they feel rewarded or because it’s fun or because bacon is involved.
Doing work doesn’t have to be arduous. It’s okay to find joy. I wouldn’t write novels if I didn’t love writing stories and making up characters. It’s one of my favorite things in the world, which is why I put up with all the horrible parts of it (bad reviews, trolls, stalkers, random pay checks, hoping for publication, the long wait between books).
Every year that goes by where I get to be a writer I think, “Whooo, boy. I am so freaking lucky. This is awesome. I love this.”
I wouldn’t feel that way if I didn’t think of it as fun, as play, and as work.
Be Okay With Your Book Messing Up
A book is like a kid or a dog. It’s not going to always be perfect. You might think it is the most brilliant, amazing, talented child … dog … book in the world, but sometimes it’s going to mess up a bit? That rambling thought? It doesn’t belong there. The subplot? It’s a bit junky.
That doesn’t mean the book is a failure.
That doesn’t mean you are a failure.
It just means that you have a place to tinker with.
Be patient with it, okay? Be patient with yourself, too.
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Loving this. There are definite echoes between making space for a dog and a book in one's life. There can also be mutual benefits. In 1989 I was frantically writing my first book, The Burning Season - 100,000 nonfiction words in 100 days (after four months of reporting). My dog at the time, Woody, ended up in my Acknowledgements for "keeping me human" through my daily park walks with him.