Lazy Efficient Writing

I had nearly finished writing a pretend grocery list for my daughter when I realized I’d been bamboozled.  Hoodwinked.  Flummoxed.  I’d been had.  (Thanks Malcolm)  What had started as an example of proper vegetable descriptions had turned into me writing almost the whole list instead. As she took the 98% complete list and skipped away, I wondered how could I replicate her trickery to fool myself into writing more.

See, I’m lazy.  Not in a bad way, but a decent sort of lazy.

Let me explain.

I have perfected the art form of squeezing the maximum amount of productivity out of minimal effort.  It’s not because I don’t want to accomplish one of these totally feasible goals/resolutions I set at the beginning of the year.  Quite the opposite.  It’s because I want to accomplish all of them.

That’s right.  I’m lazy because I’m ambitious.

(Am I losing you yet?)

So how do I accomplish this?  How can I use my daughter’s innocent bedazzlement as an example to create a tool for my success?

Answer:  Look at this Cat – (credit to Kittens, Puppies, and Cupcakes)

Cat inpsires writing by glorping down the stairs
A Glorping Cat

See how it accomplishes its goal with minimal effort?  Now it has more energy to spend batting at your feet as you walk by, shedding on your sweaters, and meowing incessantly when you’re just nodding off.


How does this translate to my writing?  Easy!  One trick is to end the previous day’s writing session midway through an obvious sentence.  That way when I pick back up where I left off the next day, I’ve got an easy start.  For example:

Ray stared into the bowl of thin, watery gruel, disgusted despite his hunger. He reached for the –

He reached for the what?  A spoon?  A napkin?  Either work, and as a pantser it still gives me the freedom to create right off the bat.  As a lazy pantser, half the sentence has been done already, thanks to Yesterday’s Me. (I love that guy.)

Try this trick the next time you feel as if you’ve been struggling to reach your writing goals.  Trick your inner writer into doing less work, and you’ll coast to the end of that session like a cat glorping down the stairs.

(Yes I know that’s not a word, but come on – doesn’t that cat look like it glorped?)