The Snacks That Fuel the Writing

Writing takes fuel. Not just ideas, words, coffee, and determination, but actual fuel—the kind that can be reached for without getting up from the desk and interrupting whatever scene, sentence, or strange little thought is currently taking shape.

I have discovered that snacks have become part of my writing process. I like to tell myself they are healthy snacks. And some of them actually are. Kettle popcorn, for instance, feels practically virtuous. It's crunchy, satisfying, and somehow makes sitting at a computer for hours feel less like work. Chips are another favorite, although I'm not sure how seriously I can defend their place in the healthy-snack category. They are there because I like them, and sometimes that is reason enough.

Then there are Nonpareils. Chocolate covered in tiny little sugar beads probably doesn't belong on anyone's nutritional chart under writer fuel, but they make me happy. There is something wonderfully old-fashioned about them, too. A little chocolate, a little crunch, and suddenly a difficult paragraph seems slightly less difficult.

And then there is dehydrated cantaloupe. This is where my definition of "healthy" begins to get questionable.

It is fruit. Fruit is healthy. But somehow, once the water has been removed and the sweetness has concentrated into chewy little pieces that disappear far too quickly, I suspect I've wandered away from the spirit of the argument. Still, I choose to believe the fruit part counts.

The truth is, these snacks aren't really about nutrition. They are about enjoyment.

Writing can be solitary and demanding. Some days the words come easily, and other days every paragraph feels as though it has to be pulled out of the ground with a shovel. There are revisions, outlines, research, characters who refuse to behave, plots that need untangling, and the occasional sentence that takes an unreasonable amount of time to get right.

A snack doesn't solve any of that. But it makes the process more fun.

There is something comforting about settling in with a project, knowing I have everything I need nearby: my computer, my notes, my characters, my imagination—and a bowl of something crunchy or a small handful of chocolate.

These little pleasures have become part of the ritual. They mark the time I spend writing as something I look forward to rather than something I have to endure.

Maybe that is an important part of sustaining a writing life. It doesn't all have to be discipline and productivity. There should be pleasure in it, too.

So yes, my writing snacks may occasionally skirt the healthy line.

But if kettle popcorn, chips, Nonpareils, and dehydrated cantaloupe help keep me at the desk, keep me smiling, and make the long hours a little more enjoyable, I'm willing to consider them legitimate writing supplies.

After all, the stories have to be fueled somehow.