This is The Write Now Podcast with Sarah Werner, Episode 4: Go On, Surprise Yourself.

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Welcome to Write Now, the podcast that helps aspiring writers to find the time, energy and courage you need to pursue your passion and to write every day. I’m your host, Sarah Werner, and I have a confession to make. I didn’t really feel like coming home and podcasting, not that I don’t love you, because I absolutely do, and I appreciate you listening, but oh my gosh, I got home and all I wanted to do was to flop down on my bed and snuggle with my kitties and eat potato chips until I died of a heart attack. And before dying of the heart attack, I would like to have marathoned something on Netflix. That is all that I thought I was capable of doing when I got home tonight, no lie. Everything I do in my life, I do because I choose to do it, and because I love to do it, but sometimes even finding the energy to keep yourself going when you’re working on something that you love can be a little bit daunting.

So, I thought I would connect this to what I love about writing. And yes, I like creating stories and I like creating characters, but I realized my absolute favorite thing about writing is when I am able to surprise myself. Now, I’m an introvert and I know that a lot of introverts don’t like surprises, but surprises are one of the most valuable things that I get out of reading. I read a lot, I’m going to be honest with you. And I read a lot of genre literature, much of which is admittedly quite formulaic, by which I mean, it follows a certain pattern so that you know what you’re getting into when you pick up a book. And there’s something to be said about setting reader expectations, but when I pick up a romance, I know that it’s going to have an introduction to the character, usually female, she’s going to meet a man, depending on what kind of romance you’re reading.

They are going to have some kind of adventure together or some kind of terrible thing will happen, which brings them together. And then, at the end, they will live happily ever after, because that’s the way that romances work. Not all genres are as formulaic as romances, but you see what I’m getting at? I’ve read so much and oh my gosh, I don’t mean to sound like I’m boasting. I’m not boasting. Yeah. This sounds like, “Oh, I have so money, I don’t know what to do with it.” I hope I’m not that person, but I’m a very passionate reader and I read a lot, all the time. And so, very few things surprise me anymore. And it’s kind of depressing because when a writer does something that surprises me, that’s what engages me in the book, that’s my hook. And I still do value good plotting and memorable, warm, lovable characters and intriguing mysteries, and even good technical writing.

But if you’re able to surprise me, then you win. So, then I thought, yes, that is what I love most about writing, when I am able to surprise myself. The best part about writing is when my typing gets ahead of my brain and makes a leap that I could not have predicted, let alone planned. When my characters take on a life of their own and start making their own decisions and actually living out their own lives. When I become not a conscious creator, but a delighted witness, that is what I love about writing. You probably know at this point that I am a pretty big fan of science fiction, and so I discovered Ray Bradbury when I was in about fourth grade. I got a copy of The Martian Chronicles from a garage sale for 10 cents and I read the whole thing, and it was an incredible and surprising experience.

I found another Ray Bradbury book, probably a couple of years later, maybe when I was in sixth or seventh grade, at another, oh no, this would have been at a library book sale, and it was called Dandelion Wine. And I was so excited, another Ray Bradbury book for super cheap, so I brought it home and I opened it up, and the cover was beautiful, and I was like, “Oh boy, Ray Bradbury.” And it wasn’t science fiction, or more accurately, it was not science fiction in the sense that I understood it at the time. There were no Martians, there were no spaceships. There was just the seemingly autobiographical story of a young boy growing up. I will admit to you that being in sixth grade, I of course, closed the book, put it back on my shelf with a sigh of disappointment and picked up a book of some kind that I would probably be very embarrassed to admit to you now that I had read, even when I was 11 or 12 or however old you are in sixth grade, but I picked it up again about two years ago, as an adult.

And I discovered this passage from Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury:

“I began to learn the nature of surprises, thank God, when I was fairly young, as a writer before that, like every beginner, I thought that you could beat, pummel and thrash an idea into existence. Under such treatment, of course, any decent idea folds up its paws, turns on its back, fixes its eyes on eternity and dies. It was with a great relief then that in my early 20s, I floundered into a word association process, in which I simply got out of bed each morning, walked to my desk and put down any word or series of words that happened along in my head. I would then take arms against the word, or for it, and bring on an assortment of characters to weigh the word and show me its meaning in my own life. An hour or two hours later, to my amazement, a new story would be finished and done. The surprise was total and lovely. I soon found that I would have to work this way for the rest of my life.”

The very first thing I did after that was, of course, to curse myself for not having read this years before and not having realized that I wasn’t alone in the way that I wrote. The second thing that crossed my mind was that it was almost too easy. Really? That’s all that this wonderfully brilliant and famous writer did to come up with his wonderfully brilliant and imaginative stories. He just did a big word dump at random? But then the third thing that stuck out to me was the phrase, “the nature of surprises.” And that got me thinking, is the nature of surprises such that we are actually able to surprise ourselves? Before I read this passage, I’d always thought that surprising yourself was a lot like trying to tickle yourself. You could tickle your rib cage, but it didn’t have the same reality to it, right? It didn’t have the same spark. You can try it and you probably will not laugh because you’re not surprising yourself.

So, can we surprise ourselves, truly surprise ourselves, while we’re writing? I’m tempted to say no, but at the same time, this is something that I have, myself, experienced. I have surprised myself while writing, and honestly, it is the absolute most magical, if I can use that word without sounding corny. It’s the most magical thing about writing that I’ve never been able to explain. When you’re writing and it’s two thirty in the morning, and the world is quiet and dark around you, and your imagination rolls a story out in front of you like a red carpet, and you chase it, and are delighted and surprised when characters wave and smile at you of their own accord. And when the carpet takes an unexpected turn and you just follow along for the ride.

I reviewed Stephen King’s book On Writing a couple of sessions ago, and he actually alludes to this as well. From On Writing by Stephen King, “The situation comes first, the characters always flat and unfeatured to begin with, come next. Once these things are fixed in my mind, I begin to narrate. I often have an idea of what the outcome may be, but I never demanded of a set of characters that they do things my way. On the contrary, I want them to do things their way. In some instances, the outcome is what I visualized, in most however, it’s something I never expected. For a suspense novelist, this is a great thing. I am, after all, not just the novel’s creator, but it’s first reader and if I’m not able to guess with any accuracy, how the damn thing is going to turn out, even with my inside knowledge of coming events, I can be pretty sure of keeping the reader in a state of page turning anxiety. And why worry about the ending anyway, why be such a control freak? Sooner or later, every story comes out somewhere.”

I love the idea that a writer is also a novel’s first reader, because I think it’s very easy to forget. And of course, it raises the question, are writers just writing for their own entertainment and is writing inherently a selfish act, or worse, a narcissistic one? My thoughts are that you’re allowed to enjoy your work. If this is truly going to be a passion project for you, if you are going to try and squeeze writing a novel, or a series of short stories, or a chapbook of poems, or what have you, into your precious little free time, you better love what you’re doing and you better get some value out of it. And it’s okay if that value is your own amusement. Also, to that point, I truly do believe that my absolute best work, my absolute best writing, my most meaningful and impassioned writing, comes from when I’m writing in what I call in the zone. When I’m in the moment, when I am in that space, when I am existing along with the story, and beside those characters, when it draws parallel to my own life and existence.

But not only that, when it becomes part of the real life that I’m living and I’m one with whatever it is I’m writing, that’s when it’s magic. That’s when some kind of alchemical reaction takes place, or maybe some writers would describe it as, “That’s when the muse is speaking to me.” I don’t know. I’ve never felt that I had a muse, but I do have that zone when there’s this perfect and beautiful unity between creator and creation, and both are moving forward together, and progressing together, and discovering together. This is also, as Stephen King said, one of the best ways to ensure that you are able to surprise your readers. If you, as the writer, have no idea what’s going to happen next, even with your own primary knowledge of what might be happening next or in the near future, your readers are sure as heck not going to know.

And I do think that many readers read for the delight of the surprise. They read for the wonderment of living parallel to something that they could not have thought of themselves or created themselves. And I think, in that moment, when you’re able to do that, you are providing true value to your readers. You are providing them with a rich, and new, and fulfilling and satisfying experience. And I think that that is something that every writer strives for. There’s also the notion here that when you let go of the reins and lose some of that tight control, that a lot of us perfectionists believe to be necessary. When you release some of that control, you give a little bit of control over to these characters that you’re creating, or to the narrator, or to the voice, or to the flow. I don’t want to dictate what you’re writing, but when that narrative voice, when those characters, get less direction from you, they get more will of their own.

I know that every character, every fictional character that you create, is at least a little bit a part of you. I’ll talk about that in a later podcast, but there’s no escaping that. But when you give up control over dictating what that character says and does, when you let it become a more organic experience, when you just let your fingers do the typing. And when you really start to think, what would this character do as an entity separate from yourself? When you let those characters surprise you, that’s when the magic happens. Now, a question that you may or may not be asking at this point is, “Am I insane?” You may even be asking that of yourself, and the answer is very firmly, “No, I am a writer.” Or maybe you are insane, I’m not a psychiatrist, I’m not a psychologist. I am not accredited in any way to diagnose your mental state, but I can tell you that you are a writer.

So, I think that the next most logical question to ask after realizing the value of surprise for both the reader and the writer is, “How do I get to that state? How do I get to that place where I’m surprising myself?” And I’m going to tell you, honestly and without guile, that it is difficult. And I know it because I’ve had days where I come home from work and I sit down and I say, “Oh boy, I’m going to write and it’s going to be awesome and I’m going to surprise myself. And this is going to be the best night ever.” And then, I sit there for the next few hours until I feel like I am writing nothing but slop, and I turn off my computer and I go hide.

The same thing has happened to me on Saturday mornings, Sunday afternoons at the coffee shop, pretty much everywhere, anytime, any place, failure is right there waiting to embrace you with its big disgusting arms. And sometimes, I will admit, I just lean on in. But I’ve also spent some time thinking about the times that it has happened to me, that I’ve been in that magical, wonderful place and objectively I’ve processed the situation that I was in and jotted down some notes. And here’s what I came up with, this may or may not help you, but on the off chance it does help you, here it is. Number one, no distractions. I alluded to this a little bit earlier when I talked about being in the zone, and I really meant that in a literal way too.

Every time that I’ve just really completely lost myself in my work, in which I’ve found myself really living out the story in my mind simultaneously, as the characters are living it out, it’s been on an evening after the sun sets, when my cats are out of my office, when my husband is out teaching, when I have had the foresight to unplug the internet and put my phone in do not disturb mode, you see where I’m going with this, right? When I’ve cleaned off the clutter on my desk, the letters that I need to respond to, the bill that came in the mail today, that I’m itching to pay.

When I shut the door, I’ve talked about this before, the act of shutting the door, writing with the door shut, of committing to existing with your work, with your novel, with your story, with your poem, with the article that’s due, when there are absolutely no distractions to pull you out of the zone. I’ve also found, and again, this is me personally, with my own body chemistry, so take this with a grain of salt, but when I have caffeine in the evenings, it really ups my chances of getting into the zone.

After I have about, I don’t know, two to five cups of coffee, I enter this quivering Zen state. I can’t really describe it, but my mind is just, it just opens up. I sound like a drug addict. I’m not a drug addict. I just drink a lot of coffee. And I think it helps me to write at my peak and to really open up my mind and fully dive head first into my work. It also gives me the energy to not crawl into bed and marathon Netflix. But if you’re looking to actually get some sleep before your eight o’clock meeting the next morning, not the best route. So, again, grain of salt. Number three, I also find that I do my best writing, starting in the evening after dark, about eight or eight thirty. And if I can commit the time to write between two and four hours, and if I’m on a roll, perhaps more, then it’s easier to find myself in the zone and it’s easier to stay up with the caffeine.

I don’t know what it is for me about writing late at night. I’ve called it the witching hour. But again, during that time, I feel like I’ve been pulled out of time, that time is limitless, that my work and I can simply coexist peacefully and take a journey together without worrying about a meeting in 20 minutes or bills to pay. The real world gets put on hold, as if I’ve been graced with this time to write. Now, it does take time to get there and I don’t want to make light of that. When I said that I can get into the zone when I set aside a two to four, to more, hour chunk of time, I truly mean that. Because when you sit down to write, if you expect to fall into the zone right away and just churn out page after page after page, it is not going to happen. I can 90% guarantee that. I mean, I hope it does, that’s what I want for you, but through experience, I’ve found that it doesn’t.

I’ve found that I don’t hit the zone until I’ve been writing for at least an hour. I’ll cover this in another podcast episode, but I don’t really hit that zone until I’ve written past the crap. When I’ve gotten all of the sludge out of the way, when I’ve dug past the rocks and the roots, which is extremely hard work, not going to lie, it’s hard work, and you have to commit to it, but if you can commit to it, it’s worth it. Finally, and this is a tangent or a given, it really helps if you are excited about what you’re writing. Now, I am very well aware that if you’ve ever written anything at length, that for the first 10% of any novel, you are completely stoked.

You’re like, “Yeah, I’m writing something new. The world is full of so much possibility.” And then you hit 15% and you’re like, “What am I doing with my life? Where do I go from here? How do I move forward?” And you’re no longer excited, you let the fear creep in. So, what I’m saying here is I find that it’s easier to get into the zone when I’m starting a new project, than it is when I am 15, 20, 30, 40% done with the project. And you’re in that long, soggy middle, where you’re just trudging through looking blindly for an exit. Yeah, that sounds really glamorous, doesn’t it? That’s why that one’s not a real reason, but no distractions, caffeine late at night and committing the time. Those are the four ingredients that I’ve isolated in the recipe of getting to the zone, that is a terrible analogy. I am so sorry. Let’s try that again.

Those are the four factors I’ve isolated that can really help you get into the zone and into a place where you can surprise yourself as a writer, and in doing so, experience one of the greatest, in my opinion, joys of writing. This week’s book of the week is, perhaps obviously, Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury. It is not what you’d think of as traditional Ray Bradbury. It’s not Fahrenheit 451, it’s not The Martian Chronicles, et cetera, et cetera. It is its own truly unique and beautiful piece. It will draw true emotion out of your heart. I know that sounds corny, but it’s so true. And it will hopefully surprise you.

Today’s question comes from another anonymous submitter. You guys, I really wish you would give me at least your first name and your hometown so that I can give you credit. But the question is, “What can I do with my English major?” That is actually a super broad question, and the answer that you’re probably used to hearing are two things. Number one, you’re used to hearing, “You can teach.” LOL. The second thing you’re probably used to hearing that is entirely unhelpful is, “You can do anything with your English degree,” which while true is not necessarily helpful. I, myself, was an English major. I graduated from Valparaiso University with a double major in English and creative writing, and I’ve done a lot of stuff with my English degree. I worked for a software company. I worked as a marketing specialist for a bank. I worked for the Lily Foundation and its nonprofit endeavor The Project on Civic Reflection.

I’ve done freelance writing and editing. I’ve worked in both public and academic libraries. And now, I work in the tech industry, making websites, well, helping to make websites. As a content strategist, my job is to make sure that a site is properly constructed, that the information architecture is sound, that the content is both usable for users and useful for the business, and that audiences and outcomes both align. So, I guess, I’m kind of agreeing with the opinion that you can do anything with an English major, but granted, there are a lot of jobs out there for English majors that I never knew existed before I was in the job market, which is frustrating. I’d never heard of content strategy when I graduated with my English major. So, I wish there was this big, beautiful directory of all possible careers ever for English majors, but there’s not. The absolute best thing I can tell you is that the ability to write can get you a lot further than you thought.

So, unless you want to be a journalist, a blogger, a web writer, or a full-time writer of books or novels, think about how else you can use your writing skills and find fulfillment and satisfaction in your job. And remember, that no matter what you do, you can always go home at the end of the day, turn on your computer, or take out your pen and paper and write for yourself. If you would like to submit your own question to be answered during the Q&A portion of the Write Now podcast, simply send an email to hello at sarahwerner dot com. That’s S-A-R-A-H-W-E-R-N-E-R dot com. Otherwise, you can go to that very same website and locate my contact page and fill out my handy little form and contact me that way. And it would be awesome if you could leave at least your first name and the city that you’re writing from, so that I can give you a shout out on my show.

You have the ability to surprise yourself when you’re writing, I hope that you find it. Thank you for listening. Special thanks today go to the wonderful, lovely anonymous person that sent me this question. I’d also like to send a shout out of thanks to my friends, Rohn Gibson, and Peder Aadahl for their continued support as I continue to attempt to podcast. And finally, this podcast is made possible by listeners like you. If you found that this podcast is useful to you or helpful to you, and if you would like to support me in my efforts, as I do run this on my own time and my own dime, please do consider going to sarahwerner.com, go to the show notes for this episode, episode four, and click on the link that says, “Help support my podcast.” It will take you to Patreon, which is a lovely and easy to use platform for supporting artists who are passionate about their work. I would be very grateful.

So, that’s it for this week’s episode of the Write Now podcast, the podcast that helps aspiring writers to find the time, energy and courage you need to pursue your passion and write every day. I am Sarah Werner, and you are awesome.

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