I wrote most of my first novel on the New York City Subway. Seems unlikely, even impossible, but it’s true–I even thanked the Metropolitan Transit Authority in my acknowledgements. One reason for this unlikely choice of writing location was logistics: I simply had no time except during my commute. In addition to being a novelist, I am a physician and a scientist, and I have three kids.
So, in the three hours I spend getting from Brooklyn where I live to the northern tip of Manhattan where I work and back again, I’d scheme about how best to sit down and open my laptop. I’d plan, when I could, my departures with off-peak travel times, positioning myself on the platform for the best chance at a car with empty seats. And when I couldn’t find a seat, I’d hover in front of sitting commuters who seemed most likely to get off before me, hoping I’d guessed right. When that didn’t work, in moments of desperation I crouched on the floor with laptop balanced on my knees trying to finish a scene.
But writing on the subway wasn’t just a necessity of my schedule—for me, it was the perfect writing environment. The train is a world away from my hectic life, even though it is hectic in its own way. On the subway, I have no house to clean, no tasks requiring my attention, no people I know to interrupt me, and usually, no telephone calls to field. It is the most ideal suspended capsule of anti-procrastination imaginable. I am a captive commuter, with nothing to do but get back into the story. And the movement of the train, the hum of the wheels, and the buzz of commuters around me mute all distractions, the perfect background music.
Often when I’m writing I get so lost in my imaginary world that I look up as the subway doors slam shut at my intended stop…too late. When I was writing my second novel, I realized the story was really taking off because I missed not one, but FOUR stops in a row.
For a while, I was afraid that I could write only on the subway. The yawning expanse of time and the ordinary desk and chair of my home office terrified me. They made me too aware of the unreliability of the story’s progress. What if the magic of creating fiction (which I thought I had no control over) could only happen when I was in motion?
About four months into novel number two, I sat down at my desk, trying to suppress panic. Could I do it? Could I will myself to do the work of creation in a stationary office? That day, I did. I wrote on command, sitting in a chair in my empty house.
The victory brought huge relief—I started to cry, realizing I’d reached a new stage of my author life. If I can write at will, I thought, on a schedule instead of at the whim of when the story hits me, I can write another book, and another. And it can be not just unpredictable magic, but a job. I called my mom to celebrate. Two years later, my second novel is with my publisher, and I’m starting my third.
I learned that although there is an unpredictable magic to the creation of a fictional world, there is also mundane persistence. And that lesson made me decide to accept a contract for the sale of my second, unfinished novel–with a deadline. It was challenging to make the book happen with another full-time job and three kids, but I did, and on time. I learned how to apply a work schedule to the nebulous process of writing. I also learned to write wherever I could: not just at a desk, but in airports and cars, hotels and conference rooms, parks and parties.
I still write on the subway, but I don’t have to. And now that I’m starting my third novel, part of me knows that I can will myself to write, just the way I do all my other work. And it gives me the strength and courage to do it again.
Melodie Winawer is the author of The Scribe of Siena, a medieval Italian historical novel that explores the mystery of Siena’s devastation by the Plague. The Scribe of Siena has been translated into German, Czech, Polish and Norwegian. Her next novel is set in late Byzantine Greece and will be published by Gallery Books (Simon and Schuster). Melodie is a physician-scientist and associate professor of neurology at Columbia University, with degrees in biological psychology, medicine, and epidemiology. She sees patients and conducts research, and has published over fifty nonfiction articles and book chapters. Melodie lives with her spouse and their three children in Brooklyn, New York. She can be found on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and her website.
