A Hard Day's Write

How do you set real life aside and connect with the imaginary worlds you create? And how long do you write each day/week?

by Paul D. Marks

I’ll answer the second question first: Not enough. Especially these days. And I have no idea where the time goes, but it does. I have the luxury of not having a day job and working at home and I still don’t know where the time goes. I’m pretty disciplined, but life happens and keeps me from doing as much writing as I might like to do or have done in the past. I spend a fair amount of time with the dogs, both hanging with them and walking them. Sometimes I find them more interesting than humans and they often have some pretty good ideas for the stories I’m working on, so at least I can count it as productive time 😊.

Now to the first question: Sometimes it is hard not to let real life intrude. But you have to find a way to get into that headspace – the Zone – for writing. There’s so many temptations to keep you from getting there, listening to music, reading, researching, the dogs. Watching movies. Facebooking. Friends. On the other hand, these things – real life – while, distracting me, also often give me ideas for stories so it’s a 50-50 proposition. Sometimes it’s hard to get in the Zone, but listening to music can get me into the mood for a certain type of story. For example, if I’m writing something set in the 1940s I’ll listen to swing. If I just want background music I often listen to baroque. Something dark, the Doors or Leonard Cohen. And sometimes silence is the best. I used to always (try to) write in silence. But sometimes you need something to block out the world. Music does that, and so much the better if it helps with the mood of the story.

And while researching can be a distraction ’cause I enjoy it so much I also get a lot of information for my stories. I recently finished a mystery set on the homefront during World War II. I love history, I love American history and I love World War II history. So I was a pig in you-know-what doing the research for that novel (for which I would very much like to get an agent…). I spent a lot of hours on various aspects of the research. I used the internet, books, maps. But my best go-to source for how Los Angeles was in the forties was my mom and her friends. They could tell me things that weren’t in books. So back to the point, the research kept me away from the writing, away from the Zone. But it also gave me things to put in the story when I did finally get back to the Zone. There are a lot of distractions, but some of them pay dividends.

I usually work in my home office where I have a nice view. But the office itself is a nightmare-mess. My desk is a mess – but you know what Einstein said about a messy desk: “If a cluttered desk is a sign of a cluttered mind, of what, then, is an empty desk a sign?” There’s also lots of stuff all around, posters and lobby cards from everything from In a Lonely Place to Pulp Fiction to album covers of the Beatles and a poster of Siouxsie and the Banshees. My picture of Dennis Hopper flipping the bird. Boxes of things, books, papers, the kitchen sink. So I have be able to put on blinders, get tunnel vision and just see the computer screen. Sometimes that’s easier than other times. And the way for me to do it is just to sit in the chair and stare at the screen and start typing away.

When that doesn’t work, I can just stare at Edward Hopper prints for inspiration. If anyone can be considered a “noir” painter he’s the one. In the pilot movie for the old TV show Night Gallery, if I remember it correctly, someone would look at a picture and be transported into that scene and a story would develop from there. That’s how I feel about Hopper paintings. They just bring so many stories to mind.

I’ve probably said this before, but when I was younger I had these romantic visions of being a writer on the Left Bank sipping absinthe or drinking Tom Collinses at Joe Allen’s, and when I lived in West LA I would go there. But when I would drink I wouldn’t want to write, I wanted to play, to party – I never got in the Zone that way. So that phase didn’t last long.

There’s so many distractions these days, TV, internet, radio, streaming, walking the dogs. The net. Envy the bucolic writer of the 19th century who had peace and quiet, but also no running water or toilets. So you just have to shut it all out as best you can. Clear your head. Sometimes I’m better at it than other times. But always the key is just to sit down and do it, sooner or later you’re in the Zone without even knowing you crossed the line.

Changing the subject ever so slightly: Earlier in the week, RM gave a nod to the Beatles and their song Paperback Writer. And since today is the anniversary of their first appearance on Ed Sullivan (February 9, 1964), I thought I’d give them a nod too, apropos of nothing:

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And now we turn you over to our usual BSP section:

Mind Blowing News: My story “Windward” from Coast to Coast: Privates Eyes from Sea to Shining Sea (edited by Andrew McAleer and Me, published by Down & Out Books) has been selected for The Best American Mystery Stories 2018 edited by Louise Penny & Otto Penzler. It will be out in the fall. To say I’m blown away is an understatement. – Also selected for Best American Mysteries from this collection is John Floyd’s “Gun Work,” and Art Taylor’s “A Necessary Ingredient” has been nominated for an Agatha. Not a bad batting average for one book 😁 .

Check out my website: www.PaulDMarks.com

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A Room with a View

Do you pull down your shades and shut out the world when you write? Or are you motivated by a city view? A view of nature? What is the ideal landscape for your creativity?

by Paul D. Marks

I don’t think I have an “ideal” landscape, but I do like to see something appealing and engaging outside the window, whether a busy cityscape from a high-rise or a view of the hills or a country scene.

That said, I’ve written in places where there wasn’t much of a view.  Just the stucco wall of the apartment next door or even worse the inside wall of my apartment and no view of anything. But I didn’t like that much. Don’t like having nothing to look at, and when that was the case I would put pictures on the walls that would “inspire” me. In our last house, we had a pretty nice view...but it was on the back side of the house and my office was on the front side, looking out at the street. So the walls there were decorated largely with Edward Hopper prints – good for writing mysteries and noir. But some of the time I’d write on the laptop in the kitchen or family room where I could look out at the view. Which was nice...except for the time the hills across the way were blazing and smoke was furling up. And then hoping the fire wouldn’t jump over to us.

In our current house, I can see the canyon and hills in the distance from my office. It’s quiet and peaceful most of the time. Sometimes I just look out the window, especially at night when I can see lights dancing in the distance, across the canyon. And on the walls here are mostly rock and movie posters, lobby cards, album covers. But what happens with them much of the time is that they just blend into the background and I don’t really see them. Other times they stand out and I can enjoy them and get inspiration from them. But mostly I just look out the windows.


My office might be a cluttered mess, but I can block that out. Having something serene outside to look at calms me and gives me the peace of mind I need to get into that Zen writing state (he said with only a hint of sarcasm, at least about the Zen).

I do like our view here, but Robin’s view is to die for. Can’t compete with that. Very nice!

And, while I do like something to look at out the window, I also like to “shut the world out” when I write, not in a visual sense. But in a sense of quiet. I need quiet, for reasons I won’t bore you with. I’ve lived in places where there was construction going on next door or across the alley. Sometimes eighteen hours a day. Once the vibrations from the construction were so bad that when I tried to play a record the needle would skip across it, making a sound as irritating as fingers on a blackboard.

When I haven’t had quiet, I would play music to mask the background sounds. Mostly the music turned to white noise.

And unlike Susan, who thrives on external stimulation, I can’t write well or at all in public places. I’m just too distracted by everything going on around me. I want to drink and chat and have fun. So I like retreating to my clean, well-lighted place, to borrow a phrase.