One Day We’ll All Be Robots

I’m such a hypocrite. I say that I’m afraid of technology, but I own a smartphone so I can check my email and social networking on the go (actually, the prospect of living without Angry Birds was too difficult to bear.) My own handwriting is steadily suffering because I write on a laptop. I hate using snail mail so much that I groan audibly when I see that a journal doesn’t accept digital submissions (South85 does though!). When I talk to other people about my fear of these things, I tell them that I’m afraid of the disconnect that may come from relying on a digital medium as our sole form of social interaction. But, it’s really because I’ve seen Terminator too many times.

I recently wrapped up the first draft of a story that required very intensive research, and I’m fairly certain that all my Googling has landed me on a few government watch lists. I spent so much time researching and collecting that I almost missed a very important deadline. For me, it seems to get harder and harder to actually focus on the writing portion of writing. Is this because it’s more intensive and draining and requires more emotional input than research, or is it because I have a fractured consciousness? I’d like to think the former is true (because the latter sounds like a serious medical condition.) But when I feel accomplished that I’ve worked for an entire hour without checking Facebook, I’m not so sure. I’ve heard agents talk about what they look for in a writer, and a big thing now is “online presence.” How many Twitter followers do you have? Do you write a blog? How many readers? How many Facebook friends do you have? Are you doing a podcast? And from a business outlook, all these things make sense. But as a writer, how long can we expect to create and maintain a focused consciousness while being pulled in so many directions?

The answer, like so many in our field, is not a straightforward one. It’s easy to praise the intensity and craft-focused dedication of the greats (Jack London began his day with a 1,000 word writing stint BEFORE he started work on his stories or novels.) But would they have been any different with the miracle/curse of  hilarious animal videos? Boil your craft down to its simplest elements and you have the answer to the problem: writing is about you, the writer, telling a story that people want to read. Set aside a period of time where you unplug the router and let everything that is not your story slip into the background. There are a number of great apps for web browsers that block the entire internet for a given amount of time (After my research fiasco, I downloaded StayFocused for Google Chrome).  Sit down, unplug, and create – it’s that simple. Those adorable YouTube cats will still be adorable when you’ve finished that story.

Acknowledgements: The inspiration for this post came from an article called Inner Space published in the January/February 2012 issue of Poets&Writers. The article was written by Frank Bures. No direct quotes were used. Also, it’s a great article, and you should read it.