Writing in the Zone

As early as high school, I started to realize I was a daydreamer. Scenes. Characters. Characters in scenes. I would suddenly "wake up" having been completely teleported elsewhere while these scenes played like movies in my head. I have no control over when this happens—just like falling asleep.

Sometimes it's a little spooky. The depth at which I disappear in these daydreams renders the real world nonexistent. I don't just visualize a scene like I'm watching through a window—I'm actually there. Sometimes I even find myself moving my mouth with the character's dialogue, or mimicking the expressions of whatever character I’m seeing through. As you can imagine, this can be a little awkward while I'm in the grocery store.

As I am very original with my coined terms, I have come to call this 'the Zone'. It is vital to my writing and during the first draft of my first book, The Songsman, I really started to study how it worked, so I could control it better. I doubt I’m the only one who experiences this, so maybe what I’ve learned can help you slip into the Zone a little more intentionally too.

Know your triggers and banish them

Keeping with the sleep analogy, dropping into the Zone is not a matter of knowing how to get into it, but knowing what prevents it. Once I understood this, I found that banishing these things made the Zone more predictable. Like sleep, I eliminate anything that would prevent it, and it just happens.

Obviously, things like annoying noises will break the Zone. But there are subtler barriers to guard against. It’s not just actual interruptions, but the possibility of one that keeps me out. If I’m worried someone might interrupt, that worry becomes my focus, and I can’t drop in. So I have to choose a time when I know for certain no one will.

My sixth-grade teacher was a Vietnam veteran. He had two quirks that three generations of students all knew. One: you never made a mistake if you were on flag duty. Two: you did not get behind him or he would bark at you, not literally like a dog, but you get the idea.

Having been in the Army, I now understand why, and it applies to getting into the Zone. Having someone behind me creates unease. My attention shifts to that awareness, and I can’t sink in. It isn’t just people directly behind me—it’s anyone within range of my space.

Because of that, I’ve learned I need some level of seclusion to get real “in the Zone” work done. That doesn’t mean I have to be locked in an office; it just means my surroundings need to feel secure. Even when I’m out walking and thinking through a scene, the same rule applies. If I want to control when I enter the Zone, I have to set up both the time and the space for it.

Set up time

I work a full-time job, and I have a family—which includes two rabbits—so the windows of time when I know I won’t be interrupted are limited. The one stretch I can always count on is late at night after everyone’s in bed. I usually get about two solid hours before my brain calls it quits and tells me to pound sand if I try to make it think any harder.

Every now and then, my family is out of the house for a full day. Those days are rare and incredibly valuable, so I make sure I’m ready for them.

To make the most of any writing window, I prep ahead of time. I flesh out outlines, notes, or scene ideas so I can drop straight into the Zone the moment things get quiet. For a full-day session, I take it even further. I’ll eat and drink well the night before, and I’ll stop at the store ahead of time so I have lunch and whatever else I’ll need. Those days are huge boosts to my progress, so I treat them seriously. Losing two hours to errands or chasing down a taco will wreck a good writing day.

Set up space

I hate wires. I hate them. Almost as much as I hate burrito sauce dripping down my wrists when I’m eating a drippy burrito (I call these "drippy burrito rages"). I also find any random garbage or loose knickknacks on my desk distracting. Before I try to get into the Zone, I clean my desk and clear out anything in my peripheral vision around the monitor. I’ve even designed my whole workspace to be minimalistic and clean, with as little wire clutter as possible.

For more serious writing sessions, like my full-day power sessions, I take it a step further and look beyond my office. While I’m waking up and having my morning coffee, I make sure the rabbits are fed and remove anything that might make noise—like loud chew toys. I also try to knock out small chores that could break me out of the Zone later with that wonderful “there’s stuff I have to do” feeling. That part takes a bit of discovery. Everyone has different triggers, but for me it means taking out the garbage or handling whatever small task is lingering in the back of my mind.

Music

Sometimes the Zone is elusive or it's hard to direct my mind to focus on something I need it to. To combat this, I found music helpful. It can really help bring my mind to bear on something when I pick music that fits.

Writing a scene where the protagonist and antagonist have an epic duel? 'Duel of the Fates' by John Williams and any of the other remakes around the internet.

Writing a flirty date scene? For some reason, I find Japanese Lo-Fi mixes great for that.

Chase scene through ruins or a fight with twenty mutant gladiators? Dark techno. I tend to pick mixes labeled “John Wick” or “Blade,” but they can’t have any human voices in them. If there’s talking or singing, my brain locks onto the voice and it snaps me out of the Zone instantly.

Even when I’m just plotting or working on a character, adding music that fits the mood helps me slip in faster. That said, there’s always a point where my brain starts pushing back, and when that happens, I have to turn the music off.

Learn to Let Go

Sometimes it’s just not happening. I can’t get my brain to drop into the Zone no matter what I try. I always give it an honest effort, but eventually I have to admit it’s not going to happen and shift my focus to resting so I can be successful the next day. Whether that means playing a game, reading, watching a movie, or just going to bed early, I’ll sacrifice the now for a better tomorrow.

Even then, I try to use that downtime for inspiration and motivation while my brain recharges. When I’m reading or watching something, I sometimes stumble onto ideas I never would’ve found otherwise. And consuming other stories reminds me why I’m writing in the first place, which is its own kind of fuel. So even on nights when the Zone won’t cooperate, the time isn’t wasted.

Conclusion

The Zone. The daydream. I used to think it meant I was spacey or distracted. At times, I even wondered if it meant I was a little insane. But eventually I realized it’s part of the natural toolkit God gave me, because I’m a storyteller, a worldbuilder, a writer. The more I’ve learned about it—and about myself—the more I’ve come to see that the daydream isn’t the distraction. The real world is.

I hope this is useful for anyone who hasn’t quite figured out how to tap into their own Zone. If it helps, let me know in the comments, and feel free to share any tips or funny triggers you’ve discovered. And yes, I’m serious about wires.