Body Doubling and a Writing Community
Body doubling for writers? A good idea? Or do we really just need to have virtual coffee? But what would I do with my hands?
(This post sits on the outer edges of my typical posts, which are about creative life and often grounded in visual art and the process of working in an illustrated journal.)
TL;DR: Body doubling may or may not work for writers. We like our solitary time, after all. Or maybe it would work and be a magical shared window of time and community.
Doubling up and getting things done while still enjoying some company sounds like a win-win.
Seeking Community
At its core, my podcast has always been a platform for writing. It was the way I shared my writing week to week as my kids grew, as I followed their creativity and my own, and, in recent years, as I've continued to develop my art, establish a solid illustrated journaling practice, and ponder issues of gratitude, mindfulness, memory, simplification, and aging.
I've had an outlet as a writer, but I’ve been thinking about the fact that I have no connections, no community, and no writer friends.
This isn't something I think I can solve on a 1:1 basis. One on one is too awkward. I'm too shy, too mistrusting, too skeptical, and too private.
Something I have thought a lot about in recent months though is body doubling or, more generally, the idea of co-working sessions with other writers.
Doing It Together
Body doubling is a technique that is sometimes used by people with ADHD, a way of doing something “at the same time as” someone else, a way of powering through a task, motivated by the shared doing.
I don’t have ADHD, but when I ran across body doubling as a concept, I was intrigued. Suddenly, all those popular videos where someone sits and studies for an hour or two or ten or twelve (like Merve), while those watching do the same, made sense.
Working in parallel provides subtle accountability, subtle structure, subtle motivation, and subtle community.
There are times when simply knowing you are doing the same thing at the same time as others helps motivate you.
I’ve seen it happen with decluttering. When a group says, “okay, we’re all going to go and find x number of things to get rid of and then meet back here to share a photo,” chances are good that those participating will successfully find x things to give away. The same is true for “studio” cleanups (if you have one of those). Setting a window of time, embarking on a shared, though individual, mission, and then showing up with a summary, photos, proof of time spent, a virtual high-five checks the box on a task that might otherwise have lingered.
The accountability is built-in. The motivation to follow through is heightened.
I think body doubling is similar. For regular tasks, it might look a lot like simply hanging out. People might fold laundry while chatting via Zoom. When my virtual drawing group meets on the weekends, we are all focused on drawing whatever we have chosen, on filling space on our pages. We have met specifically to draw, and so we do. It’s easy to talk (or not) while we draw. We all leave with lines on the page that were not there when we arrived. We all leave having shared an hour of time and community. It’s powerful magic.
I’m curious about similar shared spaces for writing, something I consider a solitary and quiet activity. I’m curious about body doubling sessions that are quiet, that are productive, that are work oriented but still have some level of built-in camaraderie and community.
Shared Writing Spaces
I know that this type of community writing session (or write-in) happens during NaNoWriMo, though I’ve never sat in on one. I know some writers are part of longstanding groups that write and then share. I’m sure writing groups can be powerful for certain kinds of writing and certain personalities, but that’s not what I’m after.
I’m not looking for feedback.
I’m not looking to share and critique.
Maybe I am looking for a community, a community of writers interested in a bit of shared space.
Maybe joining with others to write in silence and then wave goodbye as I close my Zoom window would be silly.
I don’t need motivation to write. I really don’t. I don’t need help with focus. I’m self-accountable. I meet my self-imposed deadlines. I show up.
I think it’s likely that a shared writing session might be distracting. (Think of all those keyboards clicking out of sync.)
So why do I keep circling around this idea of a co-working writing session?
I haven’t tried the silent book club craze, but that would be a similar concept. In those groups, people come together in person or virtually, exchange a few pleasantries, and then read in silence. (I’ve signed up many times, but I’ve never shown up.)
Body doubling intrigues me, people meeting up at the library or coffee shop with their own pile of work, and simply sitting together, sharing space, blocking off time, and getting things done.
Is this really a desire for community? What might we gain from logging in and writing together for an hour once a week? What might we gain from having a small group we check in with, say what we’re planning to work on, and give and find understanding.
For most of us, writing is a solitary act, something we do in the early mornings, or late at night, on days off or on weekends, words strung together and fit into the periphery.
I think a writing session, a body doubling session for writers, might be interesting.
We would set a timer and then set it again. We could do pomodoro sessions, or we could do a long stretch.
We All Write Differently
I woke this morning imagining a body doubling writing session. It went something like this:
“So what are we going to work on?”
Writer A knows exactly what path of memory she is taking.
Writer B has a story with a political turn planned.
Me: "Oh…. I thought I might write about the wind I saw blowing through the trees yesterday, or the fact that I heated up my coffee today, or the rainbow pencil I found in the bucket of pencils, or this random detail I remembered out of the blue from twenty years ago and then had to track down."
As this played out in my head, I realized I’m probably not cut out for body doubling. It isn’t that I couldn’t write my way through however long the session might be, but I don’t have a clear list of essays planned, a clean answer to the “what.” I don’t always know where I am headed when I start lining up dominoes, one by one.
But really, it’s apples and oranges. Really, shared writing time should not be a competition.
Someone might write a grocery list, and that would be fine.
The drawing group makes so much sense to me.
The writing group feels more amorphous, but it also feels a bit tantalizing.
Maybe what I would like is a small writing group, writers who meet to write, with just a bit of chat on one end or the other. It would have to be more than three and less than a bunch. Virtual is fine. Virtual is best. Virtual is, really, the only way.
But, as soon as I think about even a sliver of a chat component, as soon as I admit that what I would really like is a small community, I feel awkward, and I realize, there would be no logical way to occupy my hands.
I am not one to just sit and stare at people on Zoom.
Our weekly drawing group works because we are all busy drawing whatever we’ve decided to draw for the week. At least part of the time, we are looking down or away. We don’t just have to stare at each other.
Somehow, keeping our hands busy makes things easier, more comfortable, allows us to be quiet or talkative, in turn.
As a loner, finding a group might be complicated. I know that I wouldn’t say yes to everyone. (You probably wouldn’t either.)
Finding people you feel comfortable with is important. Finding the right balance of trust in the shared space is important. Finding people who will show up is important. Finding people who are similarly serious about their writing is important. Finding people who aren’t simply looking at a group as another way to market their work or grow their audience is important.
Balance and group dynamics can be tricky. But when they work, groups, especially virtual, can be beautiful, fulfilling, and rewarding.
If you’ve ever considered joining a co-writing group, let me know.
This post isn’t simply an invitation. I am looking for something specific, and I also know I may not have found the right people yet (or all of them). I never want to hurt people’s feelings, but I know there is some risk here. I am casting a net, seeking something specific. It may still be amorphous. It may really just be words thrown into the ether, but I am watching to see the patterns as they fall.
Please don’t comment telling me about the paid groups offered by this person or that. I do realize there are exclusive and fee-based opportunities.
I also know that many of you would never consider co-writing, and that’s okay. You don’t need to comment here with all the reasons body doubling or co-writing might not work. I’m not totally sure I will consider it or find it effective. It may be a total distraction.
But it might also be the beginning of something.
I have had trouble sticking with my fiction writing, and then when I found Substack I felt like I've found what I've been missing in my writing process. Community. I'm really enjoying connecting with a community of like minded people as I write here on Substack. Writing a long winded novel alone can be a lonely process and I think I've craved having others to talk to along for the writing ride. The body double idea is great but one I probably don't have the capacity for right now, but it's absolutely worth trying if you are able to.
I am intrigued by how body doubling ... or as I like to call it parallel play creates a shared energy ... even when it is virtual. I love the idea of showing up at a specific time with whatever my current writing project is ( lately, I am simply giving energy to curating ideas and wrangling words into sentences and wrangling those sentences into something coherent ... healing my brain) But i have seen for years how simply being in space together amplifies the creative energy