Stealth

Franklin has asked me the following question:

I've always wondered about the notion of a "stealth attack" on an article that you've used on several occasions. You've sometimes used phrases like "...before it can put up resistance" or "before the project knows what's hit it." (I'm paraphrasing.) These are metaphors, of course - the -article- isn't doing anything, even passively. But the author is. I wonder if you could say something about what kinds of resistance you have in mind, and what the "tactics" of such attacks might be.

Articles and larger project loom large in our minds. They can be scary and intimidating, resulting in procrastination of very slow, tentative starts. The stealth or sneak attack is a way of getting around this intimidation by conceiving of the task as a resisting force, ascribing a metaphorical agency to it that, of course, it doesn't really have. Suppose a chapter is going to put up resistance to me writing it. If it knows I am about to write it, it will marshal resistance. But if I don't tell myself before hand that I am going to work on it, then I can just surprise myself and do it before "it" (me) is aware of what is happening.

On a less metaphorical level, the sneak attack simply means writing an inordinate amount in a short period of time in order to make rapid but substantial progress on it. Most of your writing won't be done that way, but it is a helpful change of pace in certain circumstances. Aside from the work produced, it has the benefit of letting yourself know what you are capable of when given a block of time and an opportunity.

Metaphors like this help in the writing process because they shape behavior. I favor agonistic metaphors because for me they are motivating, though I wouldn't encourage anyone to use a metaphor just because I use it. Develop your own by all means.

Modified Stealth

One thing you might want to do is work on all the chapters of your book in one day and try to get a significant portion done on several of them. Just write like crazy and when you get stuck, move on to the next chapter.

Stealth (second cycle)

I tried to reproduce my "stealth attack" mode of work on Monday, June 28. I decided that week I would write my preface. I had about 700 words and doubled that the first day, working about an hour and a half, from about 9 to 10:30 a.m. The rest of the day I just worked on some blog posts and relaxed. Eventually the metaphor of "stealth" will lose its potency and there will be no difference between a stealth attack and a normal day of work. In the meantime, I will try to exploit the verbal suggestion of the word as much as possible. I began rather late (9 rather than 7), so I lost a bit of momentum.

I've decided after my vacation (ending July 31) I will work on my courses and my sabbatical application. I have to figure out a way of making a course as good as an article. This is hard for me, because it means sustaining attention from August to December, preparing about 30 separate class meetings. I have a hard time keeping my intensity and organization for that long a stretch.

Extending the Stealth Technique

A few weeks before my vacation I tried to extend the "stealth" technique to another project, intensely working on the preface to my book. I'll let you know how that turned out. I discovered that the hours between 7 and 9 are very charmed ones. Since 9 is the traditional start of the work day, getting all your work done before 9 allows you the rest of the day to do anything else you want.

Stealth (day 4)

(June 24). Another 800 words, mostly just adding some quotes. The stealth attack is complete. I turned a half-hearted beginning of a chapter I had not looked at in several years into 18 pages that is about half-way to being a finished chapter. All on four successive days before nine in the morning.

I really don't know how I do it. How could a simple metaphor like "stealth" give me permission to get so much work done so easily? It sounds incredibly stupid, but somehow it worked.

Stealth (day 3)

The third day (June 23) I got up around 7 and finished work by 9. I "only" wrote 800 words--about twice what I would normally write though less than I accomplished on other days. Even if I don't do anything more during this particular stealth attack on my chapter, I will have accomplished what I wanted to, which is to get a substantial chunk of something written and to initiate a new "stupid" trick: the stealth attack.

Stealth (cont.)

The second day of stealth (june 22) went very well. I got up at 6:45, showered, brewed espresso and drank it, added eleven-hundred words to my document by 9 am. I am about half-way done, with the completed portions all in more or less "antepenultimate" prose. Most of that was copying and pasting salvageable material from a separate but messier document, but still, it needed to be done.

You would have thought that my chapter would have prepared its defenses a little better and been ready to put up a fight, but it did not. The aim of the "stealth attack" is to get a surprising amount of work done in a short period and thus gain leverage on a project. I recommend doing this on a chapter than is not very well developed yet and has been nagging at the back of your mind for a while. The next stealth attack will be on the chapter that I have least idea about right now.

The stealth attack is not incompatible with the idea that you should work regularly and slowly, producing scholarship by gradual accretion of days worked. I still do that too. It is simply a cognitive adjustment in which I reserve a few days for specially intense work and substantial, efficient progress. Perhaps I feel I simply cannot write the book without a few of these ambushes.

Stealth (cont.)

My first stealth attack worked very well. I got up at 6, took a shower and brewed myself an espresso, opened up a new document on the computer, and completed a nice section of a chapter using material I had in another, messier document. My chapter never expected me to get up that early so it had no time at all to prepare its defenses. I ended up with 1,400 words in less than two hours, thanks to the elements of surprise.

A few hours later, I attacked again. In its weakened condition the chapter had no resistance. It certainly did not expect me to go at it again, when I had already done so much. It expected me to be complacently self-satisfied.

I didn't even have a desk or chair in my apartment where I was working. I just leaned up against the wall and wrote with my laptop on my ... lap.

More Stealth

The stealth attack requires some advance preparation. You need to know when to attack and have all the materials ready. The idea is to take a week when you will have some time to get as much as possible written on a particular chapter. You won't necessarily finish it: the idea is to sneak up behind it and get a lot done before the chapter or article has time to put up any defenses. If it sees you coming and you lose the element of surprise then it will never let you get a lot of work done on it.

Once you get 80% of it done you will basically have won. The article or chapter will no longer be able to put up serious resistance.

Stealth

I might try a strategy of stealth to finish the book. Sneak up on a chapter and do a substantial amount of work on it before it knows what hit it. Do the same again with another chapter.

A really good idea about how to organize time or how to fit tasks into slots of time is better than a really good idea about the substance of the work itself.