In the last collaborative article here on This Is Horror, we talked about book launches and all the social media, conventional marketing and other promos that go with them. The verdict across the board seemed to be that they’re a necessary evil.

We just want to get on with the writing, right?

Right?!

Well, sometimes, that’s tough, too.

So, in this article, I’ve queried some hyper-productive, laser focussed writing machines, and some writers more like myself who take longer to produce work, to ask about their process, how they get things done, how being productive affects them and their work and more.

So, without further ado, our speedy writers are Ross Jeffery, Bram Stoker Award-nominated author of Tome¸ Harvesting the Nightmare Fields, and I Died Too But They Haven’t Buried Me Yet. Alongside him is This Is Horror podcast alumnus and author of Last Night of Freedom and Territory¸ Dan Howarth. Finally, we have the thoughts of Australian multi-genre author, Yolanda Sfetsos, writer of Numb, Through the Blur, Breaking the Habit and her latest, Only Darkness. 

On the slightly more measured paced side of things, we have Nicholas Day, author of October Animals, and Grind Your Bones to Dust, and finally, Grace Daly, whose debut novel The Scald-Crow will be released by Creature Publishing in 2025. 

Routines

When, where and how do you write? Is there a favoured location? Drink? Music? Time of day? 

Ross: I usually write on a Friday, because luckily I’m blessed with not having to work that day as I crammed all my full-time hours into four days to give me a day to focus on my craft. I sit down at my desk after the school run, grab myself a coffee (always in the same mug) and sit myself down. Each book for me since The Devil’s Pocketbook has a particular soundtrack, a film score. Devil’s was Midnight Mass, Harvesting the Nightmare Fields was Firestarter, A Few Vials More was IT (Chapter One and Two) and most recently The Glass Womb was Interstellar. Usually after I finish the book I buy myself the soundtrack on vinyl for a keepsake. Then once the refreshment is ready, the computer turned on, I generally sit and write from anywhere between a couple of hours to four or five, depending on how the mood strikes and what the manuscript demands. Recently, with The Glass Womb, I’d been opting to write every day and did so for 38 days on the bounce before life got in the way and I’d generally do this before work and when I got home, read over and edit that day’s words so I was ready for the next session in the morning. It took a lot of actually sitting my arse in the chair when I didn’t feel like it, but it paid off greatly and I think the book is stellar, so I might try querying that one in particular. Although the one thing I can offer is just write how you feel like writing, all of our routines are ours, find yours and you’ll do fine.

Dan: There’s no routine for me as such. I think I’ve managed to train myself out of needing one. When I first started, it had to be just me in the house, the right song playing, peppermint tea on the go. All that stuff I thought writers did. Needless to say, when I thought like that, I didn’t get a huge amount of writing done. 

My writing routine then became a matter of fitting it into my day. I started writing at lunchtime in a library opposite work. I put the hour aside and no matter what, I put the time in. Now it’s like second nature. Whether the place is noisy or busy or whatever, I’m there and I’m working. 

Yolanda: I usually go for a walk to drop my husband off at work and take the long way home via the river. Then I grab my laptop, sit down at my desk, and get stuck into it. I don’t listen to music because I find it too distracting. I also take breaks in between, and that’s when I enjoy a nice cup of tea and a snack.

Nicholas: I used to write compulsively. Carried a notebook around wherever I went and if something struck me as worth jotting down, then I did so. If I didn’t have a notebook, then I would write on whatever was handy at the moment. There was no schedule, because I had no real schedule. I couldn’t afford one, at the time. These were the paycheck-to-paycheck days. I wrote quite a lot of At the End of the Day I Burst Into Flames while working two full-time jobs, and I didn’t compile what I had into a manageable, publishable manuscript until about a decade later. I found a cheap motel and checked into it over a weekend, laid out what I had, and assembled everything over a 48-hour window. Very briefly, after having finished said manuscript and being less financially strapped, I became a writer who sat down at an allotted time and banged on a keyboard. This was usually in the morning or early afternoon. I say “keyboard” but I only ever used the keyboard once I felt satisfied with what I had scribbled, semi-coherently, into whichever notebook I happened to be abusing. I write in my head, and then I scribble that onto some paper and sometimes I get very animated and pace about, performing passages out loud, like a stage play. If the critic in my head likes the performance, then those words will make their way to the keyboard and become part of the manuscript. It is important to be alone when I do this, so my family doesn’t think I have lost my mind. Grind Your Bones to Dust was finished in this fashion. I believe the scribbling and whatnot took less than a year’s time. Coffee happens whether or not I am writing. Alcohol, if I feel like the occasion warrants. Music, too, if it helps set a mood. Anything that gets me “in the zone” is on the proverbial table, I suppose.   

 

Grace: My writing has to fit around my disability: it happens on days when my symptoms are more manageable, and after I attend any doctor appointments and complete my extensive physical therapy. Because of this, I usually don’t get started until the mid-afternoon. I like to have at least a few hours without breaks so I can really focus and get into a good flow state; that’s always when I do my best work. To help myself get into the zone, I light scented candles and put on instrumental music in the background (usually Irish jigs and reels, classical cello, or video game soundtracks).

 

 

Has your routine changed or evolved over the time you’ve been writing? If so, what do you put that down to?

Grace: I’m kinder to myself than I used to be! When I started, I would force myself to write if I had any free time, no matter how much my illnesses were flaring. These days, I realize when I feel sick I don’t write as well. I’m a better artist if I let myself rest and return when I am truly up for it.

Nicholas: Covid so gloriously fucked up any routine I once had. As I mentioned previously, Grind Your Bones to Dust was written in what was, for me, a marathon session. October Animals, my last manuscript, came in fits and starts and, for such a short book, took an embarrassingly long time to write. But, you know, life happened, and lots of it. Without getting too personal, shit just fell apart. And, October Animals wasn’t even the manuscript I had hoped to be working on, at that time. I had done a lot of preliminary work, reading comps and research and the like, for The Body is a Machine That Makes Ghosts. I even set up a new file folder on my desktop with a blank Word doc, and I would’ve started work on the manuscript on Monday, July 6th, 2020. I remember this rather vividly, because I got a phone call in the middle of the night on July 2nd, from a hospital some two thousand miles away, asking permission to let my father die. Life took a hard left turn, from there, to say the least. I was back to writing in whatever little snatches of time I could afford, which wasn’t much. A little over four years later, and I finally find myself in a position where I can devote serious time to writing, so The Body is a Machine That Makes Ghosts lives again, in a fashion. Is it the same manuscript it would’ve been in 2020? Abso-fucking-lutely not. I don’t think I am even the same person as I was four years ago. A routine, I suppose, is only as reliable as the life you’re living.   

Yolanda: Well, the walking followed by writing hasn’t changed, but the time of day has. After years of being an early bird/day writer, last year my husband got a job that flipped our days. So now I write in the afternoon/night. As far as how I approach my writing sessions, that hasn’t changed, just the time. I still write/revise until I meet my daily goal.

Dan: Having a child totally changed my mindset. My days became chaotic. Evenings were for family time, not getting words down. It focused me though, in a way I’d never experienced before. 

I trained myself to use my lunch hour at work. I’d remove myself from the office for an hour (block it out in your calendar if it helps) and give myself an hour to write. Over time, I got quicker and quicker. At first, 250 words was a mammoth session, then it became 500. Before I knew it, I could do 1000 words in an hour. 

Then, I weaned myself off needing to do it over my lunch hour – which I usually spent in the library. Now, I know I can write well almost anywhere. So now I add in extra sessions. By the pool as my daughter takes a swimming lesson, sat in my car waiting for the office to open, on a train. It doesn’t matter. If I have the time and my laptop, I’m writing. 

There’s no where and how anymore for me, it’s just about doing. 

Ross: I feel my writing has evolved significantly over the years, before I needed utter silence and the house to be empty, but now I can’t write without my musical score helping me get that steady tone through the book. Also, I can write whenever now, before it was such a ritualistic thing, everything had to be just right; now however, I just open the laptop, put the music on and dive in – time is precious and I’ve decided to use it as much as I can. There are also times where I’ll just put it all aside and spend time with my family and I find that this also helps to take a break and come back with a fresh perspective whereas before I would sacrifice this time with family until the book was done, I’ve realised the error of my ways—because time is always lurking, and my children are only children once. I think a lot of this evolution is down to learning and listening from great friends in the community— people like Josh Malerman, Tyler Jones, Michael Clark, Cynthia Pelayo and many others, gleaning what I can from them and trying out different ways to write; without Josh’s input I’d still be writing in silence, and have a mediocre vinyl collection.

When you’re drafting, do you edit as you go, or do you just try to thrash out a draft as quickly as possible? Does that approach have a bearing on your editing process?

Nicholas: Let’s say that “drafting” is the time spent clacking keys. I don’t necessarily think of the notebook times as drafting. That’s play, that’s splashing paint for fun, throwing things at the wall, so to speak. If I am drafting, sitting at the desk and doing that kind of work, then I suppose you would say I edit as I go. Though, at that point, I am not editing much. Copy edits? Surely. I’m a shitty typist. Always have been. Generally, I’ve worked the narrative out by the time I sit down and crack open Word. The published manuscript for Grind Your Bones to Dust exists as it did while hammering it out on the keyboard. Now, I’ve been “notebooking” The Body is a Machines That Makes Ghosts for quite awhile, and editing the narrative structure in my head for the better part of a year. I’ll be drafting within the next month or so, if I stick to my shiny, new routine.

Ross: Previously I used to write until the book was done, regardless of the errors on the page, I think it was Hemmingway who I gleaned that from, I’m paraphrasing but I believe he said something along the lines of, write until the book is finished then you can say you’ve finished a book instead of writing a book (he said it better). I’ve adopted the Lansdale technique on the last five books, where you write your day’s words, then edit them later on before you start the next chapter. It’s worked well, and also helps keep your mind in the book, editing as you go, saving a massive edit at the end of the book. It also helps in spotting errors or inconsistencies early on, saving you a massive rewrite should it go unchecked early on. I also think that finding yourself a great editor is also key, and I’ve worked with many over the years, but my go to editor is Austrian Spencer (that’s his online handle) and this guy has taught me so much and transformed my work so much…I owe him a lot!

Grace: I edit as I go, often returning to already-written scenes as I determine new aspects of characters’ personalities or the plot to add detail or foreshadowing. I sometimes worry I’ll forget to include the bits of characterization or world-building that bring a story to life if I don’t include them as they occur to me. 

I also stop at about the halfway point of every first draft I write and give it a thorough edit to make sure I’m happy with its style and direction before completing the manuscript. This process takes a long time, but I always end up with the precise story I set out to tell and I’m always proud of the end result. Because of this, I think my final rounds of edits go faster than other writers’: they’re more about catching typos and improving the flow of the language instead of addressing plot holes or character inconsistencies.

Dan: I am a 100mph, foot on the floor first drafter. Often I only need the tentpoles of the story to get it going. An opening scene, a midpoint, the ending. Once I have those, I can start. It’s not ideal to do it this way and the books where I’ve invested more time in planning have turned out better. 

That said, once I start, I don’t stop. I always feel as though I’m being chased through a first draft. Failure has my scent and is hunting me down. If I stop or go back, it’ll catch me up and wrap me in its arms, then it’s game over. I power through to the end, often leaving a bunch of sweary comments (and encouragement) to poor old Future Dan who has to edit and improve the thing. 

For me, the first draft is pure adrenaline and pure creation. I don’t to lose that breakneck feeling of riding your bike down a big hill that the first draft always brings. 

 

 

Yolanda: While working on a first draft, I usually write as I go and don’t edit. Though I suppose that’s not really true because I like to read the previous day’s chapter to get back into the flow of things. So that technically counts as some editing, or at least revising as I go. This doesn’t really have a bearing on my editing process because I like to do two revision drafts and one final read through, regardless. It’s just how I work.

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Productivity

If you’re at the slower end of the spectrum, does the lack of productivity worry you? How do you combat those feelings?

Nicholas: I don’t think about it too much, because I normally have a multitude of other projects and responsibilities going, and they’re all worthy of my time and attention. And, honestly, I am quite thankful for that. Running Rooster Republic Press and Strangehouse Books takes up a considerable amount of time, as one would probably imagine. And, that operation is only Don Noble and I, so the work can be stacked against you. Generally, I try to attend to the press before I take care of my own personal projects. Sure, I may have had a recent stretch without much published work, but I also got to take part in publishing a half dozen or so award-nominated titles, quite a few of which went on to become award-winning titles. Rooster Republic also creates a ton of art. Whether or not you know it, you have almost certainly seen our artwork somewhere, whether on a book cover or an album or a poster. We keep pretty busy. But, you know, that’s what keeps the lights on.

Grace: The lack of productivity definitely worries me! I probably only write 2-3k words per week, and that’s in a good week. I can get caught in distressing loops inside my own head where, fueled by my own internalized ableism, I convince myself I’m not a ‘real’ writer because of my health and how little I write. But the honest truth is, between dealing with my symptoms and the timesink of doctor’s appointments and physical therapy, I simply don’t have the time or the energy to produce the volume of work I’d like to. It’s hard to keep that from affecting my self-image.

In defiance of those feelings, I try to focus on the quality of my writing: I want my words to have an almost musical flow and my emotional arcs to have deep resonance. I remind myself I don’t love my favorite authors for writing lots of books, but for writing books I deeply relate to. I cultivate self-compassion for my disability and limitations, because I’ve tried forcing myself to work through pain and fatigue and it only ever makes me sicker. And if all that fails, I try to remember writing a book is always impressive, no matter how long it takes.

For the quicker among us, is this a deliberate thing? Do you target a specific number of words or books over a year, for example? And does being prolific present any issues? (e.g. more work to sub out to presses, queues of works to edit etc)

Dan: Writing quickly is very deliberate for me. We only get a certain number of years to live, therefore we only get the chance to write a certain amount of books. I like to see it as cheating by writing quicker, maybe I can squeeze in an extra book a year, a few short stories, a script. It’s one in the eye for the Grim Reaper. 

Slightly morbid thoughts aside, I target 1,000 words a day and achieve that come hell or high water. I do give myself holidays and I don’t commit to 1,000 words on the weekend as that’s family time. Although increasingly, I find myself sneaking in extra sessions. 

I’m proud to be prolific. I’ve written 10 novels, 3 novellas and a number of scripts in the last 8 years. It makes up for achieving very little by way of completed works in the other 32 years of my life. 

It does come with problems though. I lack discipline to some extent. My first novel Last Night of Freedom lands in October. I’ve got another 5 novels just waiting in the wings to be published and more to be edited into shape. Yet I still yearn for that first draft high. I’m an addict to creation. I need to train myself to realise that editing and polishing the work is part of that high too and that those books deserve more than just rotting on my hard drive. 

That said, I’d rather be like this than scratching around to finish things like I used to be. I know I have a sickness, I’ve just learned to live with it. 

Ross: I don’t think being prolific is a problem to be honest. I just feel it’s the way I write. I need to get the stories out of my head, to free up space for others. The blessing I find in being prolific is now I have more finished manuscripts waiting in the wings; currently I have two novels, The Glass Womb and A Few Vials More, and this means that if I do eventually snag an agent I’ve a few books lined up to shop. I don’t really set myself targets, but I know the amount of books I can write in my lifetime has a limit, like I only realistically have 87 birthdays, so finishing a book is a big deal, I like the thought of having a body of work that will live on after I go, because words never die. Morbid I know, but what do you expect from someone who writes about grief. Also, my prolific nature is due to the amount of planning I do, writing out books in notes, scenes, acts, illustrations, character profiles, all of this scaffolding done before I sit down at the keys, so when I start, I know everything before hand—I have a map to follow; it saves me a lot of headaches of getting to a point and then deciding which path to take.

Yolanda: The fact that I like to give myself writing goals ties into how fast and how much I write. If I’m writing a first draft I like to write 3-4k words a day, and during revision I aim to get at least 30 pages done each day. I take the weekends off, though.

Writing quickly isn’t something that I plan, it’s just how the story unfolds. During the writing and revision process, the story totally eats my brain and I have no choice but to get stuck into it. And I’m constantly thinking about it too.

The bad thing is that if you’re not careful, the first drafts can pile up. Several years ago I had to dedicate 18 months to revising 9 novels that I’d written really fast but didn’t get around to polishing. I don’t do that anymore. A few months between drafts is enough for me.

Finally, for the other writers reading this who want to increase their productivity or who perhaps worry about losing momentum between releases, etc, is there any advice you would like to give them?

Nicholas: Writing is writing is writing. No reason to sully the work, as long as you’re happy with it. Grind Your Bones to Dust did rather well and was received well by peers. On the other hand, October Animals was a big fucking flop, and one of the only reviewers with a decent platform wrote it off as, essentially, huffing farts. It doesn’t matter. It stopped mattering the moment I was happy enough to write “The End” at the bottom of the manuscripts. The work is then done, and I have moved on to new work. Only the work matters. You have to love the work because it will not love you back. I write because I love to do it, I have to do it. If things like “productivity” and “momentum” are truly a concern, then examine that, allow some introspection, and see where your priorities lie. Do you dream of writing—gasp—for money? Well, guess what? That’s totally valid! Money can be exchanged for goods and services. If this is truly the case, then get yourself a reliable routine and make that routine a habit. The best way to do this is by purposefully setting aside time, any amount of time but the longer the better, either before or after sleeping. If you’re an adult with a job and bills to pay and this and that and you find yourself coming up with excuses not to write, then you have identified the real enemy. Surprise! the call was coming from inside the house the entire time. Whether you take a long time, as I often do, or you find yourself finishing work in quick turnaround, as I sometimes do (especially if I am working under contract), sitting down to the literal act of writing is paramount. You will either make the time or you will not. Them’s the breaks.

Ross: I’d say do you. Be the writer you are and not try to force it; of course try different techniques and see if they help increase your productivity, but at the end of the day if you write a novel in a year or take two years, three years, you’ve still a writer. Don’t compare yourself to others, because that is the way to spiralling doubts and feelings of inadequacy; be you and be happy with what you write – also take chances, change the way you write, adapt, don’t let your words grow stagnant. If I’m honest, I think there have been times where we all fear of losing momentum between releases, that people will forget who we are between releases (especially in the indie scene – which is rich with talent and numerous releases every week), but trust in your words, your stories and who you are, your readers won’t forget who you are if you take a couple of years off to write…words and books live on!

Dan: Any one thing you can do to move the story forward on a given day is a win. It might be 1,000 words one day, it might be a few bullet points about what happens, it might be one cool line of dialogue. It all counts and it all matters. Get in the habit of one positive thing a day on your story. 

You can train yourself to be more disciplined with your writing. I am living proof. The key is to remember it’s fun, it’s creation, it’s a purpose. So try not to get too hung up on the bad days and focus on enjoying the good. 

Grace: Remember writing is an art and, oftentimes, art requires time and patience! Daily goals are great, but remember the ultimate goal: to create. If it takes you a little longer or your process needs to look different than others’, that’s okay. You’re still creating.

Yolanda: My advice is to figure out a plan that works for you, set realistic goals, and make lists. Also, brainstorming before you start a project helps. That way, by the time you’re ready to tackle the story, it’ll be ready to be told.

Also, don’t forget to reward yourself when you hit your targets, and take mental breaks whenever you need them.

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All that remains for me to say is to thank the authors all for sharing their insights and giving up their time. I’ll be back in a month or so with another discussion article, so see you then. 

KEV HARRISON