My last post, Busy, busy, busy, got me thinking about productivity - a word I am loathe to use in connection with art, but to me it seems an appropriate one.
In my former career, I was a software developer, project and team manager; you name it, I wore that hat. Getting the job done, and done right, was all that mattered. The principles I worked by then - efficiency, economy of scale, project and document management - are of great value to me today as a writer. The product has changed but the goal is the same: create a good result and deliver it to market in a timely manner.
I hear writers grinding their teeth as they read this. Sorry, guys, but it’s just how my neurofunky brain works. I like to get things done and tick them off my list, and this brings me to the dual topics of this post, which are dealing with (or not dealing with) the endless distractions we face in this modern world, and how we can learn to relax and enjoy the journey.
(Lack of) Focus
As I sit here this morning, trying to concentrate on my next novel, my mind and body are being drawn in many directions. My dog wants me to play with him, my phone is buzzing, I’m watching the weather forecast to see if I can find a gap in the rain to play golf, and watching the international newsfeeds to see what sort of new craziness happened while I was sleeping.
Oh, look! Something shiny!
And I’m off again.
Seriously, it makes me wonder how I’ve achieved so much when I have the attention span of a goldfish, but this is how my brain works. Then there are other times when I’m right in the zone and the world fades away, leaving just the words before me. The question is, how do I hack my brain to get it there in a more on-demand sort of way?
Some parts of the solution are obvious:
Give my dog a nice beef bone to chew (not lamb, because lamb bones can splinter and shatter, and that ain’t good for doggies).
Put my phone on silent, and shove it in a drawer.
Clear my desk of all shiny and interesting objects that might distract me
Close all the open windows on my desktop, apart from the one I’m using.
Switch my word processor to Focus Mode.
Commit to a period of time in which I will stay with what I’m doing.
Another practice I find really helpful is keeping a daily writing journal. I find it hard to think inside my head, if that makes sense, and it’s easier for me to get a grasp on the miasma of my thoughts when I write them down in some sort of ordered, or even disordered, fashion.
In my journal, I set down a clear intention for what I want to achieve in the day. If that’s making progress on my current novel then I’ll note the starting word count, and set a goal of writing an extra 100-300 words for the day. I usually find that once the first 300 words are written, I can easily set a new target of 600 words, then 800, then 1,000 words. What I’m really doing in the journal is encouraging myself to stay on track and keep going. I applaud myself for every achievement, and never scold myself for not reaching a target, because at least I showed up and tried.
Simple stuff, right?
But my brain is still funky, so even though I really want to write a few more words, it will hijack my thoughts and direct them to the short story I started earlier this week, a random tune, a video I need to watch, what my dog is up to, my budget, my Submittable account…
Argh!
Resistance is futile, it seems, and what I’m left with is radical acceptance. This is how I am, so it’s better for me to say a resounding Yes! than fight it, and get down to working with what I’ve got.
So be it
It’s easy to accept the acceptable. No big deal there, and no great spiritual effort required. The real effort is in accepting what we resist, but it is a spiritual axiom that we can surrender to win. Lay down one’s arms, and the battle is over.
‘So be it,’ as a good friend of mine often says, and his words neatly encapsulate what I’m trying to say.
For me, acceptance means writing this post instead of working on my novel, because this is where I can make progress right now. In around ten minutes, I’m going to switch tabs and look again at the very complex plot diagram for that novel, and make a couple of refinements to it, followed by a glance at a short story. I do what I can do in the moment, make progress where I can, chop and change, and go with the flow.
Where the flow stops is when I get frustrated that this is the way things are, which brings me back to acceptance.
I’m not in a race, I’m not competing with anyone. I’m just muddling through, finding my way, and taking what measure of enjoyment I can from my writing day. If by evening I can point to any one project and say that I made progress with it, no matter how small, then I can count it as a good day.
Brains like mine are uniquely suited to writing, I believe, because distractions can lead me to interesting places. My dog chewing his bone might prompt an idea for a poem about addiction and perseverance (in fact, it just did), something in my newsfeed might inspire a new short story. By going with the flow and not resisting the distractions, I can find inspiration everywhere. In this way, having a weirdly wired brain can be as much an asset as a liability, and as hard as it is to get things done, I am so driven that I do actually do do it, albeit in a non-linear way.
And that’s fine, because life is very often lifey, distracting, and messy. My problem starts when I expect it to be any other way. By embracing it as it is, by saying ‘So be it’, I can be happy with whatever progress I make, and enjoy the weird process by which I do it.
Now I’d better get back to it! For a little while, at least :)
Jennifer, you amaze me. What an honest insight into your creative process. Keep being you and hope you are keeping well xx