I had a rare week to myself in my small home set on a rural two acres. It’s a quiet spot normally, very little traffic, quiet neighbors, and the music of nature surrounding us. Inside, the place is occupied by one person besides me and two canine kids. Not a big family as families go. But my three are active and keep my home lively. I didn’t realize how much until the human went on an ebike excursion with a friend.

So, after cleaning the house to my satisfaction (also a rare treat), I rolled up my sleeves and got busy writing. I was certain that it would be the most productive week of my writer’s life… Until I kept pausing to listen to the silence. It called to me–needed me to break it up–to liven up my surroundings… like I was used to.

Recently, I interviewed an author who talked about her writing space being in the corner of her game room, the hub of her family. Her advice to other writers was to learn how to tune things out. Coincidentally, as I prepared for the interview I came across a Medium blog that provided famous writers’ advice on daily writing routines. Completely different writers from different eras and backgrounds all had similar advice when it came to sticking to a daily routine. Tune out distractions.

My favorite was from E. B. White, the author of Charlotte’s Web, my most adored book as a child.

This was the edition in my extensive childhood library, too. Isn’t that the best title you’ve ever seen on a cover?

I never listen to music when I’m working. I haven’t that kind of attentiveness, and I wouldn’t like it at all. On the other hand, I’m able to work fairly well among ordinary distractions. My house has a living room that is at the core of everything that goes on: it is a passageway to the cellar, to the kitchen, to the closet where the phone lives. There’s a lot of traffic. But it’s a bright, cheerful room, and I often use it as a room to write in, despite the carnival that is going on all around me.

In consequence, the members of my household never pay the slightest attention to my being a writing man — they make all the noise and fuss they want to. If I get sick of it, I have places I can go. A writer who waits for ideal conditions under which to work will die without putting a word on paper.

E. B. White

Can silence be a distraction? I learned this week that it can. Did I learn how to tune it out? Eventually. I got lots of writing done. But I’ll be glad when my hubby gets home. Next to him in the living room is where I’ll be writing for a good long while.