If you want to be a better writer, i.e., a writer who writes for a lifetime and not merely a month, you should give yourself rewards. They don’t have to be big-ticket items. After all, you’re not likely to make much money as a writer unless you’re dead.
The rewards can be small.
- Walk to the mailbox or around the block.
- Call a friend.
- Wander around the store.
- Grab a latte from your favorite coffee shop.
- Buy a pair of shoes.
None will break the budget. None will set you back months in time. They instead reward you for labor accomplished.
They also offer a necessary breath. You shouldn’t stay locked up in your house for days at a time. It isn’t healthy for you, the people around you, or the writing. Relationships suffer when you turn hermit, as does your soul. You become an isolationist, hell-bent on having your own way, on having your needs met, on dodging situations and people that might require some sort of personal sacrifice of time and energy.
The writing, too, falls beneath the weight of isolation. Community, the outdoors, or a desired purchase—they enrich rather than weaken. They give you a chance to renew your perspective. They push you outside yourself and the writing’s plot twists in order to see the holes in the warp and weave.
Rewards encourage you, too. You can be the most intrinsically motivated person on the planet and still fail to complete a writing project. Perhaps the project frustrates. Maybe it takes more time than originally estimated. Either way, your determination falters. You avoid the chair as though it were a prison sentence.
In those moments, you require something additional to cross the finish line. You need a reward, so give yourself one. Meet your deadline or daily word count and head to the park for a walk or the store for a pair of shoes.
Image: lisaclarke (Creative Commons)