Writing and Walrus Toes
Discipline, the three H's of writing, and giving what you have
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My name is Tanner Olson and I am an author, poet, and speaker. Here I share whatever comes to mind. Sometimes I’ll post a prayer or poem or reflection or story. Before you move onto the next thing hit the subscribe button!
April 3, 2024
This story begins at the end, but before we can get to the end we need to start here.
Last night I was invited to speak at Poetry Hour, an online event hosted by
This morning I once again woke up early to write, but haven’t gotten very far. Last night I felt like a writer, but this morning I am feeling like an imposter. I have started 8 different poems and stories, but haven’t been able to give the first line a second.
Here is what I’ve written (and deleted) so far:
When you wake up, put both feet on the floor.
The light of summer arrives, inviting us to come alive.
There is hope within all that remains incomplete.
If someone says they are thinking about getting a dog, I tell them I think they should.
The older I get, the quieter I become.
There is no easy way to get to where you are going.
Do not let yourself forget how you’ve made it to where you are.
I woke up thinking about walrus toes.
Last night a fellow writer, McKenna, asked how I remain disciplined as a writer.
I chuckled and shook my head the way your grandfather does when you ask him about how much gas cost when he was your age.
I told her how I wish I was more disciplined as a writer. Some seasons I am as disciplined as a monk, others I am more like a puppy before a bowl of food. But these early days of Spring I have found a rhythm that seems to work.
At night, before getting into bed, I close out all the tabs on my computer except for a single blank document. When I sit down the next morning it will be waiting for me. If my email is open I will be distracted, sucked in by its glow and demand. One thing I’ve learned about being disciplined is knowing what can wait and where your time is better spent. I wake up early to write, not to reply to emails.
Before shutting the door to my office I leave my pair of Birkenstocks at the entryway. I like to write with my shoes on. You cannot go to work without your shoes on unless you are a lifeguard. I am not a lifeguard. I have never been a lifeguard. I don’t have the physique or stamina or desire to be one. I would like to look like a lifeguard, but not be one. I am a writer. Well, I used to be. Today, I am struggling, but most days I am a writer. I have found that doing a small thing like slipping into a pair of shoes reminds my brain of what I have woken up early for.
And today I woke up early to write.
The last thing I do before slipping into bed is I add water and coffee grounds to the coffee pot. All I have to do is press start and the magic bean juice is made. Have you ever tried making coffee without having coffee? It’s the Mount Everest of tasks. Nearly impossible to complete. By doing this I save 90% of my brain power.
I set my alarm for 4:30 AM. I would not wish this on my enemies, but I have found the quiet of the morning to be the best time for me to work. This gives me a few hours to write, or in today’s case, stare at a blinking cursor.
4:30 always arrives too soon. I used to pop out of bed when my alarm went off, but these days I slowly roll the lower half of my body over the edge and place both feet on the ground. I sit up straight, arching my back like I am some sort of lifeguard sitting tall on a stand observing the crashing waves and screaming children as the salty air blows through their hair. But once again I am not a lifeguard. I am an exhausted writer sitting in the darkness on the edge of his bed contemplating falling back asleep or getting the day started. I fight the temptation and remind myself that this is what I want to do. I want to write. I feel the cold floor beneath my feet and breathe in deep before pushing myself into a new day.
I head to the kitchen and turn on the coffee maker. I stretch my arms and legs, waking up my body and mind before I sit down to write. I swing my arms in circles. Big circles and little circles and medium circles. I tell myself this is doing something. I tell myself this is what lifeguards do before they climb up on their stand. My mind keeps wandering. Do lifeguards stretch before they go to work? How do lifeguards swim so fast? Do they have walrus toes? Do walruses even have toes? What would walrus toes even look like?
I keep moving my body, shaking off the idea of walrus toes. I begin thinking about what I’ll write about this morning. I always want to write something honest and hopeful and helpful. I call it Tanner’s Three H’s of Writing. I don’t. I just came up with that. But I do always want to write something honest and hopeful and helpful.
I fill up my mug with coffee, walk to my office, slip on my Birkenstocks, and sit down at my desk. I exhale and say a short prayer.
God,
Give me the words.
Amen.
Once again I have shown up to write, to give what I have.
Just like I did yesterday and just like I will do tomorrow.
Sometimes the words come, other days they don’t.
Today is one of those other days.
But I am up before the sun with my Birkenstocks on and a mug full of coffee to write something honest and hopeful and helpful.
Or as we now know them, Tanner’s 3 H’s of Writing.
I am searching my brain for words and ideas, but they have hidden themselves.
I remind myself that this is normal.
This is how it goes.
My fingers type a few words and then I delete them.
I feel lost and am working to not become frustrated.
I type another sentence and delete it.
I stay positive, trying not to drown in negativity.
I type another sentence and delete it.
The negative voice gets louder.
I pull open the shade to my left and wait for the darkness to be exchanged for the light.
I close my eyes, open my hands, and pray, “Please, God. Anything.”
For some reason all I can think about are walrus toes.
I close my eyes again and pray, “Please, God. Anything other than walrus toes.”
But I couldn’t shake the thought of them.
I open Google and type in “Walrus Toes.”
And now I have something to write about.
Looking for a hopeful book of poetry? Check out my book, Walk A Little Slower: A Collection of Poems and Other Words.
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Thanks for this post- It helped me feel normal and ok and to keep going. :)
Thank you for making me look up walrus toes. They're icky 😂