I studied this useful guide to the writing life at length, visiting and re-visiting it and taking notes. It made a great companion to Word Work by Bruce Holland Rogers, as each book approaches similar themes and insights from different vantage points.
However, where Word Work is more mystical, A Writer's Guide to Persistence is more down-to-earth. Everything about this book is designed for maximum use value. The chapters are short and easily digestible, as are the sidebars with perspectives from different writers and the reflective exercises peppered throughout the book.
Perhaps the most elementally earthy aspect of this book is Jordan Rosenfeld's unique emphasis on incorporating movement and exercise into your writing practice. Most simply, Rosenfeld addresses the health risks of long periods of being sedentary, and the health benefits of stretching; she also digs a little deeper by exploring the relationship between physical movement and the creative process.
Julia Cameron stressed the vital need for creative people to take a daily walk in her Artist's Way series (to which this book is a worthy, modern heir) and much has been made of the clarifying effects of walking on thinking. Rosenfeld goes beyond the daily walk and considers the effects different kinds of physical movements have on the movements of our thoughts and emotions. Feeling "stuck"? Limber up and release tension and emotional blocks with some yoga. Feeling repressed or seeking an infusion of joy? Dance. Feeling disempowered as you pursue publication? Do something that makes you feel physically powerful, like lifting weights.
While it seems like these kinesthetic metaphors shouldn't always work, they usually do; our bodies, the animals we are, need to act things out sometimes to shift our perspectives and moods. Sometimes getting energy and blood flowing is all our brains need. As writers, we frequently need reminders to come back into and inhabit our bodies; we forget that they are not mere vehicles for our minds, but are inextricably linked to them and are source points for the subjectivity we work so hard to cultivate and refine.
Rosenfeld makes clear that hers is not a craft book. This is not a one-stop shop for the beginning writer; it isn't even really a good book for a beginner. A Writer's Guide to Persistence carves out a particular, and extremely useful niche: it is a guide for developing a lasting writing practice after successfully beginning the writing journey.
For the absolute beginner trying to move from a space of not creating to a space of starting the work, there is still no better book than The Artist's Way. But for those who have begun, and graduated to the next phase, but are having trouble maintaining their desired levels of productivity and commitment to their creative practices, Rosenfeld's book is superior to any of Cameron's sequels to The Artist's Way, especially for writers.
Something I've learned, and something A Writer's Guide to Persistence reinforces, is that the early stages of starting a creative life are more mystical and psychological, while the latter are more concrete, more dependent upon establishing habits and routine. In the beginning, there is this profound sense of discovery and transformation on very deep levels as one moves from not creating to creating. But this process of self-discovery can only go on for so long until it hits up against the need to actually do something, and do it regularly.
The psyche is like an onion; there is always another layer to peel. There gets to be a point of diminishing returns in investigating the deep inner reasons for various blocks and resistances. Some amount of introspection is required, and some therapy may be necessary for some of us; however, just as much as the myth of the "tortured artist" is destructive and false, so too is the idea we have to iron out every neurosis or inner weakness to be able to write.
The steps that Rosenfeld lists for "creating a lasting a productive writing practice" mirror the points emphasized by Bruce Holland Rogers:
(1) Build rituals and routines that are the most conducive for you creatively. This includes deciding the best environment and time of day for your writing, as well as learning what props and activities help invite you into the right state of mind.
(2) Set concrete, attainable goals, whether word counts or amounts of time. Find ways to hold yourself accountable and find other people who can as well.
(3) Build a connection with a creative community, cultivating and honoring those relationships that help you achieve your creative goals. Seek the company of other writers. Seek feedback and critique, and learn how to accept it with humor and insight.
(4) Take time to study and work on your craft.
There's much more to Rosenfeld's book than can be captured in these categories, though. Like Holland Rodgers, she frequently examines the inner aspects of building a solid writing life. The reason books like hers even need to exist is that becoming a writer is a path strewn with significant psychological obstacles.
To write, you have to face and overcome countless fears. You have to learn to start asking for your own space and time and be confident enough to set firm boundaries around them. You have to trust your own voice and experience to be able to write authentically, but also need to learn from more experienced writers how to fix your writing flaws and succeed at your craft.
To be a writer, you have to learn how to fight off any number of psychic obstacles, from inertia and fatigue to negative thinking and perfectionism. You have to be brave enough to express things you've spent the rest of your life censoring. You have to reach deep and hold on to the confidence to keep writing when society is all too willing to dismiss your path as frivolous.
To keep writing, you have to keep going even when you're raw from your ego constantly getting injured. Covered with lacerations from the barbed wire of rejection, bruised from bumping up against the rock of dead ends, stabbed by the knives of others' envy, and dehydrated from the requirement for continuous effort at times when a well or oasis can't be found, the writer's ego is constantly being challenged to give up.
There is a reason a lot of people like the idea of doing something creative, but never act on the idea. If it was possible to leap straight from A to Z, many more people would do it. But getting from A to Z requires living in uncertainty and risking that the zenith of success will never be attained. It asks that you spend hours, days, and years feeling stretched and deeply uncomfortable just to hunch along in tiny increments like an inchworm.
No book can make navigating this path as easy as following a set of linear steps. That's why so many who bestow writing advice always fall back on the concrete, and say simply, "write every day" or "get your ass in the chair." The problem for many of us is that we know that is what we need to do, but we're at a loss as to why we're not doing it. Many of the fears we brush up against remain in the shadows, and even when we scare them into the light, they're not easily banished.
To figure out how to get your ass in the chair more regularly is neither a matter of brute force, bootstrap discipline nor of delicate psychic tweezing. It is a balancing act, an act of self-creation and self-development that must happen alongside the creation and development of a work of fiction if both are to be fully realized.
Ultimately, while the path of writing requires solitude and the capacity for solitude, it also requires support and community. Books like A Writer's Guide to Persistence are only one of many categories of guides writers will need along the way. We need craft books and classes; we need webs of relationships with writers and non-writers alike. Perhaps my favorite idea in Rosenfeld's book is the "Creative Support Team," those people who are most instrumental in keeping us writing. While the concept isn't novel, Rosenfeld's language for it and way of thinking about it has forever impacted how I think about my life and the people in it.
Her book makes clear that to be a writer is about much more than learning a new set of skills; it is a practice and a path. That we need help to make it a reality is not a sign of weakness, but a reflection of the challenge and commitment required. Perhaps the greatest gift of this book, and what makes it one I would recommend to all writers—especially those who aren't absolute beginners on the path, but have already stumbled, and found themselves struggling to get themselves to write—is that it relieves the reader of the fear that her difficulties are a sign she is not meant to write.
A Writer's Guide to Persistence shows how becoming a writer is linked to personal growth and development in undeniable ways, and requires an effort toward healthfulness and mastery on many fronts. It's hard, in the same way getting fit or losing weight are hard. But it's attainable. Some of the process will remain a mystery, but much of it is simple, requiring only the continuous effort to put it into practice regularly. This book is an excellent guide and source of encouragement, a manual to reference until you know your routine by heart.