Writing Log: What a Week Looks Like

IMG_2370

This writing log is for a week that isn’t typical or atypical of any week. It’s one of many weeks that’s likely to have already blurred together by the end of the term with tasks that will soon become less discrete than they appear here. Tracking my writing over a week is a way to recognize what I accomplished during week, rather than what I didn’t. It’s a way to acknowledge writing as part of my weekly, work-related activity and to counter its accepted invisibility across the university.

 

This past week, I revisited chapter revisions that I’d started earlier, but abandoned because of more pressing (read urgent) deadlines.

 

Monday:  I located the previous version of the chapter on a new computer. I’m too embarrassed to say how long this took because, apparently, I label most files ‘Revisions.’ In fairness, they’re all revisions. I tracked down the editors’ email with their feedback and requested revisions. I read them over and set them aside for a day because I’ve learned that writing is more frustrating when it’s not preceded by thought. I elected not to join my weekly writing group.

 

There’s a tremendous amount of energy expended in beginnings.

 

Tuesday: I located four journal articles recommended to me by editors. I located two additional articles that weren’t recommended, but that I thought might be useful. I read one of the articles, but didn’t do any revising. This also means that I didn’t yet cut any of the 1,400 words that are required to have disappeared in the next submission.

 

Wednesday: I read another article and then spent about three hours writing. It mostly translated into a careful reworking of the first three paragraphs. I didn’t use any of the ideas from the articles I’ve read.

 

Words cut: 0. Words added: 0.

 

This doesn’t mean that I’m ahead.

 

Thursday: I read a complete article and most of another. I reorganized my reading notes and transferred them to a single file. I also renamed the file with the chapter so that I can find it more easily. I wrote for an hour and cut about 230 words.

 

Pace of revisions so far: glacial.

 

Friday: I finished the half-read article from yesterday and made some notes. I wrote for an hour and a half in the (early) morning before a day of meetings. I realized that making the context clearer will also make my argument clearer. This requires a book that I know I own, but that I can’t find. Add cleaning bookshelves to my weekend to-do list. I reworked the main question in section one (of three), integrated some ideas from the article I read on Tuesday, and cut another 50 words.

 

 

This is the reality of how writing happens: slowly. Sometimes painfully.

 

It requires time. Of course, this isn’t all I did this past week: I also taught classes, attended meetings, worked on a research application, and went to yoga.

 

Even when it happens, writing is a process that isn’t always measured best by outcomes.