Timely Advice

It never fails. Chuck Wendig’s blog is hardly a daily stop on my net-surfing routine, but when I am prompted to drop by www.terribleminds.com, I invariably happen upon advice that pertains to something I’ve been pondering.

Case in point: my ongoing struggle with finding/making time to write. It’s not that I am short of ideas – to the contrary, I’m marinating a couple of beauties as I type, along with trying to complete “Black in Back” and redirecting the novel that’s fallen so far off course I’ll need a Hummer and a hydraulic winch to get it back on the road. I like to blame my day job for much of my frustration. “If I had more time …” “If I didn’t have to work …” “If I could get some momentum …” yaddayaddayadda … Yup, that bi-weekly paycheque and promise of a pension has sure jammed a stick in my creative spokes, but what is a writer to do when writing doesn’t pay the bills?

Not that I was openly musing on the matter yesterday. I had a few minutes and no one else is blogging right now – George Martin is travelling the globe, Erin Morgenstern has taken August off, and Nic has been so quiet that I fear she’s succumbed to the same demon that dogs me: a day job that sucks up your will to do anything more than crash with a bag of chips in front of the TV every night. So, with a few minutes between crises yesterday, I dropped over to Chuck’s place and discovered this post by guest blogger Tom Pollock, entitled “Writing Around a Day Job”.

Are you kidding me????? Well, of course not; lots of people are stuck doing what they must instead of what they’d rather, but I found hope in these four simple points:

Plan your time. He writes Monday and Wednesday nights, and during the day on Sunday. I’m supposed to write on Sunday, but have given up getting momentum on one day a week. That means I’ve almost given up, period.

Stick to your plan. I repeat, he writes Monday and Wednesday nights and during the day on Sunday. Invitations to socialize are politely declined or alternative dates suggested. He writes for eight hours a week; so could I, if I follow his example with two weeknights and my regular Sunday.

Don’t let writing turn you into an asshole. I fear Ter could address this item more objectively than I can. While a scheduled routine will protect your writing from your life, it can also protect your life from your writing. Pollard wisely says, “You won’t actually get any more done if you’re worrying about how you’ve fucked up all the human connections in your life. The fact that writing is not the a1 priority in your life does not mean you won’t get it done.” He goes on to say, “Prioritize the people. They’re more important.” So are Flyer games and Sleepy Hollow.

And finally … Enjoy it. Lately, I haven’t. Lately, it’s been work. Lately, I’ve been so frustrated that I want nothing to do with it, and that’s a bad, bad sign.

So, how do I get it back? Can I build and sustain momentum with a few extra hours on a couple of strategically-spaced weeknights? Can I shed the shackles and rediscover the joy in blasting out as much as I can, ignoring both time and my inner editor? And can I do it without alienating the people who mean more to me than writing ever will?

My two-week vacation starts on the 25th. It’s easy to write full time on vacation, especially when I’m on to something new and shiny, so the test will come after I go back to … the Day Job.