Show Your Working is a regular column exploring how some of our favourite writers get things done. This month, we take a peek into the writing routine of author Hayley Scrivenor, whose debut novel Dirt Town (Macmillan Australia) won the 2020 KYD Unpublished Manuscript Award.
What does your workspace look like?
My workspace is a long thin room that has been tacked on to our old fibro house. It can be boiling in summer and freezing in winter and the floor is so uneven in one spot that a bookshelf we tried to put there leaned away from the wall at a steep angle. I love it. It’s a space where I’ve spent hours staring at my computer or writing in my notebook, and Dirt Town was largely written there—certainly all the editing happened there, during various lockdowns. I have a single bed in my study and sometimes I let myself read or write under the covers. I’m pleased to report that only rarely do I fall asleep.
There’s a painting that an old housemate left behind when she was moving out that I keep on the far wall. I like it because the woman in the painting is looking out at you, a bit unimpressed. Sometimes I glance around the room, sick of writing, and her stern look sends me back to the document I’m working on. I have a shelf behind me where I keep my moral support books: books that remind me what is possible, what a wonderful and giddy thing it is to spend time with words. I try and keep the space tidy, but I also know when it gets really messy that the work is finally happening! By the time I had finished the structural edit for Dirt Town, you couldn’t see the floor or the desk.
Are you an analog or digital writer?
I only ever used to write on my computer, but I use my notebook a lot more now. I think handwriting is good when I’m not sure what to write about. It slows me down and allows things to feel more temporary, and I find I take risks that I might not take in a Word document, where things can look a bit too close to finished. I’ve made my partner promise that if I die, no one gets to see my computer, or my notebooks.
I’ve made my partner promise that if I die, no one gets to see my computer, or my notebooks.
I am big on externalising my thoughts, so I always have running to-do list that I add to in my notebook. That way I can dump the thought and get back to writing. My most helpful hint for someone working on a big project is to keep an index for your notebook. I manually number the pages of my current notebook (where I keep everything, from idle thoughts to draft scenes and doodles) and try and update it every month or so. It sounds like a waste of time (and it can be a terrific procrastination activity!) but I’ve actually found so many things that I would have otherwise lost: half-written scenes that I jotted down before bed, little bits of writing from books I’m reading that I’ve copied out by hand. It’s amazing how a small paragraph copied out of something I was reading weeks earlier can help with a craft question I’m trying to tackle that day. Something magical happens when you write someone else’s good sentences out, it’s a very attentive form of reading, because you deal with each word choice, one at a time.
What’s often most useful when I’m reviewing my notebook though is seeing the ups and downs of my writing process and the things that repeat. It gives you some perspective. When things are going badly it feels like it will always be that way, but reviewing the past few weeks reminds me that today is not every day, things will get better and worse and that’s normal. It also doesn’t mean the project is doomed!
What sort of software and hardware do you use to get your work done?
I’ve tried the Scrivener software (how could I not, when my last name is so similar!) but I’ve come back to Word. Once I figured out the navigation panel, which allows you insert headings, and easily jump between them, I found that worked best for the way I like to write—which involves a lot of jumping around. I am physically incapable of writing in order. I met Lyn Yeowart recently, author of The Silent Listener, and she gave me the hot tip that you can add hidden text to a manuscript; this means you can have descriptions of scenes that are visible to you and help you navigate the document, but you can hide them for easy sharing with others. I haven’t tried it yet, as I’m still at the drafting stage of my second book, and not ready to share it with others yet, but I’m excited to give it a go.
I’m sometimes asked how I kept track of all the characters and subplots in my work. Dirt Town has five different points of view, including a collective of children which functions a bit like a Greek chorus. I would just say that there is no magic program or notebook that helps all on its own, and you definitely don’t need to know where you’re going or have it mapped out. My novel is a story of a girl who doesn’t make it home from school in her small community. For a long time, I had this idea that Esther would be the hole at the centre of the story. That’s an image—not a software or a plan of attack—but it’s amazing how an image can sustain you as you move between different tools. The most important tool at a given time is one that lets me come back to the story, whatever that looks like for me in a given moment.
The most important tool at a given time is one that lets me come back to the story, whatever that looks like for me in a given moment.
Finally, in more practical terms, I have a standing desk, and I try to move between sitting and standing. I can’t write without good support under my wrists. I try and look after my back. I read somewhere once that there are only two kinds of people: those who have back pain, and those who don’t have it, yet.
Describe your writing practice?
If I can get to my desk as soon as possible after waking, that is my writing sweet spot. It’s like my higher thinking and critical faculties haven’t had time to wake up yet and I’m able to get things down in a way that I can’t do later in the day. At the moment, my goal is to write 700 words every weekday, and I’m not allowed to stop before I get to that. I try and keep writing if there’s more in the tank, but I know I’ve picked my current word count well if I’m usually getting to that number, but not much further. Of course, there will be days later in the process where I might spend most of a given day deleting a lot of what I’ve written. That’s important too.
Lately, I’ve been sending a summary of the day’s writing in an email to myself—I try to articulate what I was working on, and what I might work on tomorrow. I very rarely look at it, but I keep all these notes in one long email chain, and sometimes when I’m stuck, I can read it and find a way into the book for the day. That may sound like it doubles up on what I’m doing in my notebook, but there’s something about seeing the chain grow longer and longer that’s satisfying. Often, I write in my notebook to ‘gear up’ for the day’s writing, but the post-writing email is more of a record: proof to myself that I am making progress.
With my first book, I did know more or less where I wanted the story to end. That’s similar to what seems to be happening for my next book. I will never be someone who plans everything out, because I don’t know enough about my characters at the start. I need to give myself permission to write into the unknown while I’m figuring out who they are. I am always trying to do something that seems a little bit impossible—I’ve learned that discomfort is a good thing.
I am always trying to do something that seems a little bit impossible—I’ve learned that discomfort is a good thing.
Has your writing practice changed over the years? If so, how?
It took a lot of trial and error to figure out what worked for me. The main thing that’s changed between writing my first book and my second is that I’ve learned to be a little kinder to myself. I had so much fear and so much anxiety when writing my first book. I’m not someone, and will probably never be someone, who can spend all day writing, and I used to think that meant I wasn’t a proper writer. Now I know that the only way to write a book (any book at all) is to approach yourself and the way you work with something like gentle curiosity. What might I write today? is a much easier way to begin than, How am I going to stuff things up today?
I would also point out that what I discuss here is more like my ideal writing schedule: lately, I’ve been on ‘book tour’ and all of this has gone out the window. Before I would spiral when I took a break from writing. Now I can see that cutting myself some slack can be good for me and the project I’m working on.
How do you encourage inspiration to strike?
I feel lucky that Dirt Town was a difficult book to write, in many ways, because it means I’ve developed all kinds of tricks for when it isn’t going well. My personal rule is to write whatever comes. I think if you reject an idea, instead of writing it out, the tube that delivers ideas can get a little clogged. I’m often interested in details or small moments, and it’s not always immediately apparent how they are going to be important, but often I’m surprised in the ways things start to connect up. Mary Karr once wrote, ‘I’m not much of a writer, but I am a stubborn little bulldog of a reviser,’ and that really resonates with me. I think when you start a new scene, you are working with infinity—literally anything could happen, which is what can make it so paralysing. As soon as you get something down, get yourself moving towards something more specific, then you’re moving in the right direction.
When you start a new scene, you are working with infinity—literally anything could happen, which is what can make it so paralysing.
I find writing to myself about the problem helps too—once I start to articulate that something’s not working, even if it’s just writing, ‘This isn’t working,’ then some other part of my brain that I don’t have a conscious connection to goes, ‘Maybe it’s because…’ and then you’re away.
What’s next for you?
As I mentioned, I am working on my second book. While it isn’t a sequel to Dirt Town, it feels like it scares me in the same way my first book did, which I hope is a good sign.
The most reliable place to see what I’ve got coming up is my Instagram: @hayley.scrivenor. You can also sign up for a newsletter on my website, hayleyscrivenor.com—I don’t think I’ve sent a single newsletter yet, though, so no promises!
Dirt Town is available now from your local independent bookseller.