by Noelle Sterne
Three shelves in my library are crammed with guaranteed-to-break-your-writer’s-block books.
All have a thick dust blanket, some have grown moss, and a few have put down roots.
One book, though, never even got to the shelf. Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way went with me everywhere and, to my astonished wonder, revived my lifelong, nearly stone-cold dream of writing consistently.
BC—Before Cameron—all my fervent declarations and self-promises, after a few heady days or weeks, crumbled like smashed cookies before the screaming demands of the rest of life.
The key to my success? Cameron’s “morning pages,” which you may have heard about. (I call them “Morning Pages” or MP for short.) I tried them as recommended at first, but then I adjusted them to fit my style, which worked a lot better.
In case you’re struggling with writing consistently too, I’ve got some tips that may help you out.
How Morning Pages Got Me to Write Consistently…Finally!
Cameron’s rehabilitative program is carefully designed to entice you back into writing.
Over twelve weeks, in gradual doses of one chapter a week, she prescribes explicit assignments that nudge you to regain respect for yourself and reacquaint with your creativity. Integral to the treatment is what she calls, as many writers know of today, the Morning Pages (MP). But unlike the assignments, their contents are not prescribed at all.
Their main purpose is to clear our heads of the pervasive preoccupying gunk we carry around that drags us from our work or stops us cold. As Cameron tells us, the MP are the unjudging receivers of that constant stream of dismal thoughts, feelings, railings, and lamentations that bombard our minds and get in our way.
Don’t worry, as I did, that the MP must be “real” writing. Cameron assures us otherwise, not that real writing should be discouraged. If you’re already doing the Pages, you’ve probably found that occasionally, without preparation or warning, a little gem pops through. You’ve experienced that mysterious creative state beyond conscious effort that results only from consistent application of pen to paper or fingers to keyboard.
Such times are sure to be cherished. But, as we all know, they’re regrettably few. And one way to induce more of them is by doing the Morning Pages.
In the MP, Cameron specifies only two conditions. First, whatever we write, however tortured, small-minded, mean-spirited, or monotonous, we must daily fill three handwritten pages. They can be loose pages, looseleaf pages, or notebook pages (not one of those tiny ones). And second, we should fill our pages in the morning. But . . . like a disobedient student, I didn’t exactly follow these rules.
Why Force Yourself to Write Morning Pages?
Cameron coaxes us to the task with several great reasons:
- They kick out the censor. In their deceptively simple way, the MP combat “the Censor,” our ubiquitous inner shrew that never shuts up (p. 12). Even if, by other people’s standards, we have an all-A life, or a list of works longer than James Patterson’s, the Censor endlessly informs us that we never do enough or do any writing well enough.
- They nurture your inner child. In bold rebellion to the Censor, the Morning Pages feed our “inner child” (p. 12), that twinkly part of us long imprisoned by parents, religion, school, and society. Whether we know it or not, our child is giggling to break out.
- They banish fear. When we do the MP faithfully, they get us beyond the Censor’s reach to the other side “of our fear, of our negativity, of our moods.” This is the place where “we find our own quiet center” and our own triumphant voice (p. 12).
With Cameron’s excellent reasons, I’ve discovered a few others:
- They motivate you. The Morning Pages, despite their most often dubious quality, undeniably count as writing. Never mind that the rest of the day whizzes by with jobs, kids, partners, laundry, dental appointments, and all the other relentless to-dos. You’ve written something besides a list of groceries or checks for three bills.
- They reaffirm your commitment to writing. You feel like a serious, committed writer doing the MP. They tell you, Yes, I am keeping this daily promise to myself.
- They relieve you of guilt. You’ve put your writing first. If you must fault yourself for how you write, you can at least stop the self-flogging for not writing at all.
- They stand as evidence of your writing progress. The MP give you an ongoing, physical record of progress. You can label your pages by the year or quarter and prop them on a bookshelf or file them in a cabinet. You can take heart and encouragement watching the shelf or cabinet fill with the fruits of your self-discipline.
Why I Broke the “Write in the Morning” Rule
As you already may suspect from the title of this piece, I’ve taken creative liberty with one of Cameron’s fundamental conditions. (Dare it be admitted?) My mornings don’t start with the Morning Pages.
After the first burst of perfect rule-following, the early entries—as if by themselves—stopped. An undeniably non-morning person, at first light I’m completely incapable of bounding eagerly out of bed, sweet-lipped and bright-eyed. It’s a feat to get up at all, much less tackle anything like writing.
I work independently in my office residence, and I’ve learned that I must sneak into the day. After dressing, I ease in by going out to the terrace with several essentials: coffee, daily meditative book, TV guide, newspaper or magazine, and the ubiquitous clipboard and pen. I sit, sip, stare, sigh, survey the sky, smell the air, and, blurry eyes slowly focusing, take in the relatively newborn day.
After a few jolts of caffeine, I begin to think about the day’s demands and scribble them in a rough schedule. Then I check out primetime TV, read a magazine feature (always looking for markets), and turn to the day’s meditation for spiritual refueling.
This routine has been a habit for years, and when I added the Morning Pages, it was almost lunchtime before I got to the morning’s work. So my MP grew later and later. At first, I did them after lunch at about 2:00, then between projects around 5:30. Finally, they hit the evening and stuck.
In the beginning, I felt like an irrevocable sinner. But soon, I found that switching to the evening didn’t condemn me to metaphorless purgatory. At night, I saw with shocked relief, the MP still did everything Cameron promised they would in the morning, and maybe more.
At night, the MP give me the cathartic receptacle of the day’s pettinesses and redundant gripes against those closest and most annoying. The Pages are the open-armed accepters of ceaseless rationales and self-justifications. They’re the patient receivers of too-frequent cries of “Nothing to say!” And occasionally, they’re the recorders of small, significant victories (“Did 15 minutes on this piece today!”).
How to Keep Writing Your Morning Pages No Matter What
As the MP have continued to work for me, I’ve developed many ways to keep them working, whatever the time. Like evolutionary adaptations for survival, these methods ensure that the Pages stay alive, in my heart, mind, and write brain.
For you, here are some of them.
- Plunk paper and pens everywhere—main writing area, kitchen, bedside night table, bathroom near the magazines, briefcase, tote, car seat. The MP can be done anywhere and at any time.
- Use any waiting time anywhere to do them, even if you don’t finish them in a single stint.
- Finish the day’s MP whenever you next can, as long as it’s before midnight.
- Do them slowly or quickly. At first, you may need 45 minutes or more, but eventually, according to Cameron, most writers settle into 10 to 15 minutes. This time period leaves room for a little thinking and eventually some honesty.
- Do them neatly or messily, and don’t worry about whether you’ll be able to read them later.
- If you feel absolutely blank, just keep writing, “I have nothing to write.” Very soon you will.
- Keep doing the Pages. Keep doing the Pages.
“Oh No, I Missed a Day!” When You Fail to Write Consistently
What if you miss a day, or night, completely? It feels awful, worse than stealing from your partner’s pocket.
When I’ve skipped doing an entry, I sometimes don’t realize it for an hour or even a day. But the instant I remember, I stop everything and pinpoint the exact moment this supposedly steadfast habit flew from my mind like a hawk from captivity.
Then I have the first task—forgive myself. And then a second: take corrective steps and set the clock, plaster signs all over the house, beg for help from my significant other. Most crucial of all, I jump back on the horse and kick the pen into a gallop, whatever the hour.
Give Morning Pages a Try—They Work!
The MP work in the morning, afternoon, night, or any other time of day. Despite all my rationalizations and naughty rebellions, I’m writing proof that they do what they’re meant to—help you write consistently.
They’ve gotten me back to thinking and living like a writer. They’ve helped resurrect my lifelong goal from the mountainous ashes of decades-long distractions. And two years after starting the MP, on an uneventful work morning, I got a call from the regional Sunday magazine editor. He wanted to publish an essay!
So, do the Morning Pages whenever you choose—brunch, high tea, or vampire dawn. Commit to them, hold fast, and keep scribbling.
You’ll gradually notice some amazing things. You’ll be less afraid, grow ideas, pick up unfinished work, and even feel spurts of hope. And, best of all miracles, you’ll find you’ve given yourself the delicious practice of regular writing.
Note: For more help in finding time to write consistently, check out Overwhelmed Writer Rescue!
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Author, editor, writing coach, workshop leader, and academic mentor and nag, Noelle Sterne has published over 700 stories, essays, writing craft articles, spiritual pieces, and occasional poems in literary and academic print and online venues.
Eons ago, she published a children’s book of original dinosaur riddles (HarperCollins), in print for 18 years. More recently, her handbook to assist doctoral candidates is based on her professional academic practice (PhD, Columbia University): Challenges in Writing Your Dissertation: Coping with the Emotional, Interpersonal, and Psychological Struggles (Rowman & Littlefield Education, 2015).
In her spiritual self-help book, Trust Your Life: Forgive Yourself and Go After Your Dreams (Unity Books, 2011), she draws examples from her academic consulting and other aspects of life to support readers in reaching their lifelong yearnings. Continuing with her own, she is draft-deep in her third novel, with more clogging her files.
For more information on Noelle and her work, please see her website.
Source:
Cameron, Julia. (1992). The Artist’s Way: A Spiritual Path to Higher Creativity. Tarcher/Putnam.
Featured photo by Olya Kobruseva from Pexels.