I Will Not Write Unless

Perfectly reasonable excuses for creative procrastination

I love to write. There is nothing I'd rather do. I've kept journals since I was 9, and dragged them all my zillions of homes through adulthood. It's why I make tv, and this thing. And compulsively write lists and tweak them. Writing is my total thing. I just need things to be set up in the way I like. Like to really write.

I will not write unless I have a block of 8 hours. 8 beautiful hours where I don't have anywhere to be, where I won't get a call or text that will interest me, where nothing good's on TV and I'm caught up on Hacks and The Rehearsal. How does Nathan Fielder do it? It's like he's inventing a new kind of comedy. I'm entranced.

I can't write unless I'm in-between series I'm binge watching. I'd LOVE to write right now, but I have A LOT of Doctor Who to catch up on and I think their unique and creative storytelling will inform my future writing. So it's research, which is a kind of writing. I want to be the best writer I can be so I NEED to watch all the best shows FIRST. It's not my fault they've made Doctor Who for 50 years.

I can't write unless the candle is going. I'm not sure if this is the right candle. It's fig & bergamot. And I'm not sure I know what bergamot is and I'd feel kinda dumb asking someone. I could google it but that'd take away from my writing time and I'm more disciplined than that. I don't need to know what bergamot is to write. I know what a fig is, and that's enough. But I do prefer a woodsy kind of candle. Or tobacco. Why is it that cigarettes are so disgusting but tobacco smells so good?! Like the tobacco shop at Six Flags mall where we went all the time growing up, it smelled great. I don't need to know that to write though.

What I do need to write, though, is quiet. And my dog Minnie is breathing SO HARD. She's a bulldog so that's really her wheelhouse. But still. She would have been great in the 70's as a masher. If she could use the phone. And why was it called a masher? I can kind of guess what was being mashed but I prefer not to.

I will not write unless the house has the right energy. Too much happening around me and I can't focus. But too quiet and I feel like I'm in a sensory deprivation tank, which sounds relaxing but is actually terrifying.

I can't write unless there's something going on. Not a distracting noise but some sense that life is occurring around me. In college I sometimes studied at the food court at the mall. I thought I just liked to be contrary and study where no one else was studying. But now I think I just wanted to be near the giant cookies. Whoever was the first person to make a 5-inch diameter mall cookie was a genius. And the person who took two of those and stuck them together with frosting was next-level. And the person who made a pizza-sized cookie and decorated it like a cake was of preternatural brilliance. Culturally we laud scientists for their breakthroughs but do we give enough credit to cookie pioneers? I don't think so.

I can't write unless Minnie is in the perfect position. She needs to be present but not breathing so hard. Oh, Minnie. Quiet breathing isn't really in her skill set. When she's too loud, I can't concentrate. When she's too quiet, I worry she's dead or sad. When she leaves the room entirely, I feel so lonely. I'm sure the strain shows in my writing—that haunting emptiness and incompletion, a soul's yearning that underlies everything in my sit-com pilot specs. But I trudge on. Because writing is my life.

I can't write if it's too hot. It gets so hot in the valley. I can't be expected to write anytime between noon and four, June-October. No one can. You'd sweat-write. It's ungodly.

I can't write unless I've worked out. I feel better in my mind and body when blood and endorphins flow. But sometimes when I go to the gym traffic is backed up and that's so stressful when a 15 minute drive takes 22 minutes or possibly 23! And then I come home physically and mentally worn out and I'm too frustrated to write—or work out. So I go back to bed. I know if I get plenty of rest today, my writing will be better tomorrow. Napping is essentially an investment in my future that will pay huge dividends. I also can't write if I work out too hard at the gym. Sometimes I overdo it and simply have nothing left for the page. So I catch up on Doctor Who and that's called research.

I can't write unless I'm in a good mood. I don't want to infect my writing with any shitty downer thoughts. I want it to soar. How can it inspire people if I'm not coming from the best place? Sometimes I'm in too good of a mood to write. Who wants their head in a notebook—go live life!! What am I even trying to write about if I don't have a shit ton of life experiences? I must grab the bull by the horns, then write about the horn grabbing! That experience, accomplishment, victory!!

I won't write unless I have a REALLY good idea. Why waste my time following a dead end path? Time is precious. People only want to read something if it's really good and I only want to write something if it's going to be really good. No one wants to waste time reading something banal or indulgent or obvious or trite, or something that's just a really long descriptive list that's more or less repetitive. And I certainly won't waste time writing it.

You know what's funny? As a meditation teacher, I spend all day telling people that the perfect moment is always right now. That peace and clarity are available in this breath, in this moment, exactly as it is.

Too bad that enlightened wisdom doesn't apply to my writing, which clearly requires the alignment of no fewer than 47 specific cosmic conditions. Mars in the right house, the house with the right energy, the gym traffic situation resolved, nothing too bad going on in the news, and my mood calibrated to exactly the best frequency.

Maybe what I really need to do before I write is work on all this perfectionism. I'll look into some classes or coaches on that. After my nap. And a few Doctor Whos. And after I spend some quality time with Minnie, because, I mean… LOOK at this face!