Making Room for Silence
By Jael McHenry | June 3, 2019 |
image by Giulia van Pelt
One of the secrets to balancing a busy life is doing more than one thing at a time. We listen to audiobooks while we drive, manage a hands-off dinner with our Instant Pots, send work emails from our phones in the grocery store checkout line, and so on and so on.
This isn’t necessarily a bad thing for a lot of us. The opposite, even. Without multitasking I’d get a lot less sleep. I’m guessing many of you, balancing writing with myriad other priorities, are in the same boat.
But I’m in the phase of writing a new book where I have an endless supply of knotty problems to think through, and as I multitask, I’ve realized that thinking through those problems requires a new strategy.
I need to make room for silence.
Reading is both necessity and luxury for me, both work and leisure. Any writer who doesn’t read constantly, both classic and current books, is neglecting one of the best ways we have of becoming better writers. So for my entertainment reading, I’ve largely shifted over to audiobooks. My ears are full of thrillers and romances and historical fiction and more anytime I’m behind the wheel of a car or satisfying my Fitbit’s endless thirst for steps.
But now that I’m in this active phase of writing, when I need to ponder character development and plot twists and how to write my way out of the hole I’ve written myself into — I’ve found my audiobook obsession is standing in the way. Even music occupies my attention in a way that doesn’t let me puzzle out the best way to depict a turning point between characters. For that, nothing but silence will do.
I used to say I was always jealous of my writer friends who got their best ideas while exercising; for a long time, mine always came in the kitchen. If you think about it, though, there’s commonality between the two. When our bodies are occupied but our minds are free, that’s when we have the most time to think. Same principle applies to writers whose breakthroughs happen in the shower: you’re not writing, you’re not talking, you’re not working, you’re just thinking. When you can fully apply yourself to thinking, it’s only common sense that your thoughts will be more helpful, productive thoughts.
Our lives are busy. Our world is busy. We have access to more information, more sound, than ever before. But if you’re a writer, take a look at how much sound you’re letting in, and when. There may be times you need to turn it all off.
How do you create space for silence? For the thinking work that is so essential to writing?
Jael McHenry is the debut author of The Kitchen Daughter (Simon & Schuster/Gallery Books, April 12, 2011). Her work has appeared in publications such as the North American Review, Indiana Review, and the Graduate Review at American University, where she earned her MFA in Creative Writing. You can read more about Jael and her book at jaelmchenry.com or follow her on Twitter at @jaelmchenry.
I’ve written about this same thing before. My husband can’t do anything (walk the dog, sort the laundry, mow the lawn) without a podcast in his ears. And I used to listen to a lot of books while I did my gardening or folded laundry. But now I do almost everything with no words, no music. Even driving long distances I often don’t turn on any music.
I spent all of Saturday weeding and mulching, tasks that could easily have been made more pleasurable with something in my ears. And I didn’t necessarily even use that time to actively think through issues in my WIP. Sometimes I just need to not think at all, to focus on digging up actual things in the actual ground and making it beautiful. Then later on, when I am at the keyboard, that time of mental rest works itself out in mental productivity.
So true! In silence, the subconscious mind has a chance to swirl around and loosen us from the well-worn paths of the conscious mind that keep leading us over the same terrain. For me, music, like the sounds of nature, can be a form of silence—that is, a nonverbal realm. So I don’t think it’s the absence of sound, per se, so much as it is time spent in a different part of the self.
Jael, before I read your post I was telling my husband about JRR Tolkien’s reference to the noisy ‘vulgarity of modern life’ (I’m re-reading his bio), referring to a UK seaside resort in the 30’s. What would he make of the world now? You describe beautifully the relationship between the two sides of our brains. “When the body is occupied, the mind is free.” I love silence. In fact, I crave it. I mostly leave the radio off (except for Terry Gross) and don’t own a pair of earbuds, because it’s while doing mundane things like driving or gardening or clipping your toenails that you get those whispers or sudden solutions, and those are precious. Best of luck with your WIP! (I also love what you said about reading!)
Thank you for this important reminder. My novelist grandmother used to sit and stare into space; when I (aged 10 or so) asked what she was doing, she said “writing.”
Oh how wonderful is this response!
Silence is such a commodity these days, and I find I have to be mindful of it if I want it to be meaningful. It’s so easy to multi-task, even in silence-What do I need from the grocery store? How should I word that email? How can I get from here to there and avoid all the road construction?
That being said, I can be stuck or just empty of ideas while I’m writing, but as soon as I stop for a moment to do something mundane like getting a drink of water, an answer or idea pops into my head. Inspiration takes advantage of whatever silence it can find.
Can I quote you on, “Inspiration takes advantage of whatever silence it can find.”? Brilliant!
Sheree
I don’t even try to multitask–I was at the eye Dr. recently and both my daughter and the insurance lady were speaking to me at once. I asked the lady to wait until my daughter had finished. This way I can give each my full attention.
I’ve built in a lot of silence in my life–when I clean the house, sit in church for Adoration, go to the beach, or walk my dog. And I write in silence. I need to be able to hear my own thoughts and my characters’ voices. Thank you for this important reminder.
I know some people who say they can’t concentrate without background noise–public chatter, music, HGTV–but I’m the opposite. If I’m doing something that isn’t mentally taxing, bring on the audiobooks. But if I have to think, I need silence.
In the early stages of story creation, I spend a lot of time in baths. I sometimes sit with headphones on, but no sound. On weekends I take “naps” without sleeping.
If I have a particularly difficult problem to think through, the challenge for me isn’t carving out the silence, but resisting the urge to break it to procrastinate. Noise is easy to find and oh so tempting.
Excellent post, much needed in these times.
Could it be that silence does for our creativity what sleep does for our physical and mental health?
When I was working on my first book, I went to elaborate lengths to find “writing music,” mostly classical or Brubec-type jazz, and it did work to put me in a meditative place. But I’ve learned that silence is better. Like Erin, I even prefer silence while driving long distance.
As an elderly writer, I enjoy the blessings of retirement but, of course, the likelihood of a shorter writing career than many. Even more important though, is that I live near the ocean on Kaua’i and all of my best writing ideas come from swimming in the early morning hours (or the shower, which seems to work equally as well.)
I have the exact same experience with audiobooks that you have, Jael. I’ve replaced material books with audiobooks nearly entirely but find that I have to limit my time to the car, while cooking or painting and just before bedtime when I sit with a jigsaw puzzle on my iPad and listen to the magic created by some of our great author/magicians. While we haven’t yet found a way to live forever, we seem to have discovered the secret of jamming three or more lives into one.
My best quiet times are walking in the beautiful park near me, taking a bath and washing dishes! I need a lot of what I call “drift time” to write well. I sometimes also re-watch beloved movies or reread parts of a favorite book. Quiet! Heaven! I am fortunate to live in a quiet apartment on a quiet street in NYC. If occasionally neighbors are talking in the next apartment or someone is playing loud music from the street or there’s drilling in the concrete, my writing often shuts down. No music playing while writing for me! Thank you for the article!!
We all need quiet time just to think. Our lives are full of continual ‘noise’, and much of that is good; still, time to reflect, ponder ideas, recharge, and be at peace in silence, is healing. The epiphanies that come to us in times of solitude are beyond measure.