Sitzfleisch - by Lorrie Orr

 

In my attempts to develop a suitable rhythm for writing I've thought of emulating other writers. Like Edith Wharton, I've thought about staying in my nightgown all morning and write propped up on the pillows. But I'd get a crick in my neck, and sadly, unlike Edith, I have no assistant to come by and pick up my scribbled pages to reorder them and type them. Scratch that idea. 

Perhaps William Faulkner's situation for writing As I Lay Dying would be better. He was a night supervisor at a coal plant, but everything was quiet between midnight and 4 am, so he wrote on an improvised desk. A few problems arise as I contemplate this idea: I turn into a pumpkin at 10 pm, and I know of no nearby coal plants who might employ me. Moving on.

Parisian cafes seem to inspire a lot of writers, among them Hemingway, Sartre, de Beauvoir, and Voltaire who enjoyed up to 40 cups of coffee per day while writing on the second floor of Cafe Procope. Alas, I don't drink coffee, and commuting from Vancouver Island to Paris is simply not practical. Au revoir, Paris. 

Instead, in my own humble home where no one picks up my mess nor brings me tea on a tray, I practice sitzfleisch, putting my bottom into a chair and staying there for a designated amount of time. 

In German, if someone is described as having a lot of sitzfleisch, it means they have the ability to just sit down and get a job done. Writing requires enormous amounts of sitzfleisch, don't you think? 

I'm very much a donkey led by a carrot, so I promise myself little treats once I accomplish a set goal, be it time, or word count. A single square of 78% dark chocolate is a great carrot, as is a walk around the block, or a phone call to my mom or a friend. As often as not, once I do get to my goal, I am eager to carry on and find that I do not need the carrot. 

Taming the lure of the internet is crucial for maintaining sitzfleisch. How tempting it is to check my blog feed, or my email, or to see what's happening on Facebook. Sternly, I ask myself, "Lorrie, who is stronger, you or the Internet?" Alas, in the interest of truthful writing, I confess that it's about a 50-50 split. But how virtuous I feel when I do overcome! 

My simple rules for writing include:

1. Do the important work first, in the morning.

2. Set a small goal and exceed it. 

3. Repeat.

Lorrie Orr writes from Vancouver Island where she enjoys boating and hiking with her husband. Gardening, sewing, reading, and spending time with her five grandchildren fill her days with happiness and contentment. She is newly retired from teaching high school Spanish.