Blog in 04 2015.

What can creative writing teach you about writing at work? More than you might think. When our Marianne isn’t working at Writer HQ, she’s busy writing plays. Over the next few weeks, we’ll share her top tips for improving your writing.

Part three: keep up your creativity

Practice makes...

Well, let’s not say perfect. Perfect is an impossible brief. But practising writing builds your confidence and creativity.

If you ever have to be creative at work, it’s worth getting into the habit. A couple of ideas from creative writing guru Julia Cameron could help: she recommends starting every day by writing longhand for three sides of paper. These ‘morning pages’ clear out the brain and help you be more creative. And take yourself on a creative date every week – a solo expedition to explore something that interests you. Whether that’s a film, art exhibition or just a walk in the park.

Go your own way

Writing is a personal process, and there’s no magic formula to get it right. Some people plan, other people make it up as they go along. Some people need eight hours of quiet solitude, others get inspiration from noisy busy places and not having quite enough time. Whatever works for you, works for you.

What can creative writing teach you about writing at work? More than you might think. When our Marianne isn’t working at Writer HQ, she’s busy writing plays. Over the next few weeks, we’ll share her top tips for improving your writing.

Part two: making sure it’s good

Writing is rewriting

So, you’ve come to the end of your draft. Sometimes the sheer relief of having finished something blinds you to the fact that there’s still a shedload of work to do. You’re going to need to go back and edit it, as ruthlessly as you can. (The writers of Peep Show admit they get to 22 drafts.)

Creative writers famously have to ‘kill their darlings’ – getting rid of anything that isn’t strictly necessary.

I learnt this the hard way when my first short play was put on. It was pretty thrilling to see my work in action. Apart from when it got to the ‘quite funny’ lines I’d left in. Those were rather painful to listen to. Because you’re squirmingly aware of how much you’re wasting your audience’s time with anything that isn’t completely necessary. They have to sit through that stuff. It’s easy to forget that when you’re writing.

So – read it out. Are there parts that sound unnecessary, clunky, don’t quite hit the spot? If so, improve them or bin them. People are busy, so every word should be there for a reason.

The best way to get some distance is time. At least one night, if possible. And for a really big piece of work, a week or longer is ideal.

Two brains (or more) are better than one

Find the people who’ll give you the right kind of feedback, and treasure them. At The Writer we have a two-stage process for this. A second brain (not just a second pair of eyes but someone who’ll really think about what you’re doing) for the big picture view of what’s going on with your work. And an editor, who’ll pick up on any typos and grammar problems. You need people who’ll be rigorous, but constructive too.

When you’re getting feedback, listen out for the problems people are spotting, even if you don’t agree with their solutions. If a couple of people tell you something isn’t working, you need to pay attention.

What can creative writing teach you about writing at work? More than you might think. When our Marianne isn’t working at Writer HQ, she’s busy writing plays. Over the next few weeks, we’ll share her top tips for improving your writing.

Part I: getting started

Don’t get it right, get it written

A friend once told me she’d like to write a novel. But if she did, it would have to be the Next Great British Novel. Anything less would be an abject failure. Unsurprisingly, she’s never written a word.

The blank page can be terrifying. And the more pressure you put on yourself to write the killer proposal, the kickass marketing concept, the hilarious email... the harder it gets. Sometimes it’s easier to do nothing (or procrastinate until the last possible moment) than put pen to paper.

There’s no one way to get around this. The simplest thing I do to calm my panicked brain is call a document ‘notes’ or ‘draft’. It’s not ‘the Next Great Play’, it’s just ‘notes’. And that gives me permission to write anything I like, without worrying whether it’s any good or not.

First drafts of creative works are rarely great – they don’t need to be. You just need to get to the end of them.

Be a bit kinder to yourself during this stage, and plough on through.

(And if you’re a chronic procrastinator, this is the best article you’ll ever read about why it happens, and how to fix it. Warning: it’s longish, so don’t read it if you’re mid-procrastination.)

Constraints liberate

If you’re looking to generate ideas, don’t leave the brief wide open, give yourself restrictions. One playwriting exercise is to write a play in ten lines: the first line should be ten words, the second line should be nine words, and so on down to a final one-word line. It sounds impossibly tricky, but it focuses the mind.

Could you summarise your annual report into a haiku? Could you write your business strategy as a tweet? Give yourself limits, and you’ll be surprised at what you can come up with.

Time constraints, like the tomato timer method, can help, too. Turn off all your email and social media, set yourself 25 minutes to do as much as you can and then take a five-minute break for a cuppa.