Does Reading About Writing Count?

Procrastination with education

I’ve been working on my first book for, geez…almost three years now. The idea took shape six years ago when I was part of The Writers Studio at Simon Fraser University. And with patience and constant revisions, excerpts from this unfinished book landed me prized workshops at Tin House Books in Portland, and writing residencies in France and Italy.

These experiences helped me focus my story with serious authors and learn next-level methods about the craft (groan) of writing. It feels like I’m slowly getting a backdoor MFA by way of the service elevator.

But what if learning about writing supersedes actual writing writing?

An average page in one of my notebooks. The Irony is, come time to revisit them, I can’t read my hideous handwriting.

I’ve been fiercely procrastinating on my project and chain-smoking books, audio books, memoirs, and online essays and lectures about the act of writing instead of typing the real thing.

It’s turning into an obsession and furtive avoidance tactic. I’m coming to the school dance, but sitting on the gym bench all night. Observing, not participating.

I have countless notebooks scribbled with tips, inspirational quotes, beautiful sentences, and deep dives into structure and syntax. But what good is it doing? Am I even absorbing anything? I convince myself there are way worse ways to procrastinate—that this is part of the process. Then I buy another book.

A typical page in one of my notebooks. The irony is, come time to revisit them, I often can’t read my hideous handwriting.

It feels like I’ve read ‘em all. The biggies like Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird, William Zinsser’s On Writing Well, Strunk and White’s The Elements of Style, Robert McKee’s Story, Mary Karr’s The Art of Memoir, and On Writing by Stephen King. Then there’s The Writing Life, Save the Cat!, Big Magic, Still Writing, Writing Down the Bones, The Artist’s Way, The War of Art, Turning Pro, A Swim in a Pond in the Rain, Steering the Craft…add to that book-nerd podcasts; a million open laptop tabs bursting with writing studies; renowned long-form essays; and other Substack subscriptions like the erudite but friendly Story Club with George Saunders.

Ridiculous, right? There are so many voices coming at me that I risk losing my own.

Perhaps I suffer from bibliomania and obsessively hoard books. Then have heavy bouts of fear about writing—not uncommon in this dumb, quixotic pursuit.

If you’re a young student, procrastination is a given. In the AA program, procrastination is a “character defect.” On say, a good barn raising, procrastination means you’re a lousy two-bit good for nothin’ bum.

I need to graduate from this self-imposed reading regiment and get to work. I need to get my hands dirty and never leave the desk. I need to be in the chair until my hair goes unwashed for weeks and my breath smells like Cool Ranch and wet dog. I want to lose myself in the story, then take a cheese grater to it all, scraping off the flowery and fancy-like words that don’t belong.

There are piles of procrastination tips out there: self-compassion, realistic deadlines, making it fun!, lowering expectations, milestone rewards, a pomodoro timer, and finding an accountability partner. Maybe Steven Pressfield says it best in The War of Art:

“Fear is good. Like self-doubt, fear is an indicator. Fear tells us what we have to do.

“The most important thing about art is to work. Nothing else matters except sitting down every day and trying.”

So I’d like some of you to keep me accountable and give me a loving nudge once in a while. It would genuinely help if you randomly ask me: Are you writing today, young fella? Drop a line in the comments here or on Instagram @jordankawchukbc.

By the way. Writing this very newsletter was another way to avoid the inevitable for one more day.