Category Archives: procrastination

Procrastinators of the world, unite … tomorrow

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DSCN2254

What do you do when you have a squillion and one things on your to-do list and deadlines breathing down your neck?

Why, you start crocheting a random shawl, of course. Despite the fact you’ve never worn a shawl in your life. And summer is approaching, and said shawl could not possibly be worn for another six months.

Hello, my name is Marina and I’m a terrible procrastinator. Well, actually I’m a darn good one. It’s my habit of procrastinating that’s terrible, and it seems the more urgent the tasks hanging over my head are, the more likely I am to skive off and do something else completely. It’s as if the weight of everything hanging over my head paralyses me and makes me incapable of doing anything.

I am enjoying crocheting again, though!

And the situation isn’t quite as dire as I’m painting it. I’ve written two scenes in Moonborn since my last post. Should have been more, of course, but two is better than none, and I only have five to go. I’ve finished the read-through of the first draft of Fairytale Curse 2, which is the first step in my revision process. I also finished up a beta read of a friend’s novel, so I haven’t spent all my time crocheting.

Funny thing about that, though. I realised some time ago that all my creative pursuits have fallen by the wayside since I got serious about this writing thing. No more quilting, crochet or scrapbooking. Each of those has been a huge part of my life at one time or another, and I miss the colour. I’m a very visual person. I love playing with fabric, and seeing a piece of art emerge under my hands. It still thrills me when I look over a piece of crochet forming and marvel that this object is taking shape from a single strand of yarn. I miss the tactile nature of practical crafts. Making up worlds and people in your head is a very different kind of creativity, and even though I love that, life has felt like it’s missing something since I started focusing so exclusively on it.

And sometimes, particularly when deadlines are looming, even the most creative enterprise can still feel like work. That’s when a hobby, something you do just for fun, no pressure, can be a wonderful release. Whether it’s baking, woodwork, gardening or crochet, there’s nothing like the feeling of creating something with your hands, and the quiet, contemplative nature of such creation makes a great stress release.

So maybe my shawl wasn’t so random. Maybe it’s my subconscious’s way of telling me to stop and smell the roses a little. That’s my excuse, anyway, and I’m sticking to it!

What activities do you turn to when you need to chill out?

Reproachful software and other motivational writing tips

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My new version of Word has this cute little feature. When I open an existing document a message pops up asking if I want to start again from where I stopped last time. It’s quite handy, but if it’s been a while since I’ve worked on the book, that little message can seem more reproachful than helpful.

Welcome back. Pick up where you left off: Thursday?Thursday! But it’s Monday now! Aargh!
 
Yes, folks, guilt has been motivating Catholics everywhere for over 2,000 years, and it can work for you too. It’s a powerful force. (Though Protestants should not despair, as there’s always the Protestant Work Ethic to fall back on if you can’t manage Catholic Guilt.)

But of course guilt is interdenominational and, ridiculous as it seems, this perky little message from my software does make me try harder not to leave it so long between writing sessions. Pick up where you left off: 2 hours ago?gives me the warm fuzzies and certainly ensures speedier progress.

My constant battle to triumph over the perky “pick-up” feature led me to wonder what other weird things could be motivating. We procrastinators writers are always looking for tips on how to actually, you know … write.

To-do lists are another thing that work for me. What’s so weird about that? you ask. To-do lists are mainstream. Everybody’s doing them.

Very true. Most people have at least tried them, and for the right personality the satisfaction of ticking those suckers off can be highly motivating. What’s weird about them, for me, is that even when the to-do list isn’t writing-related, the sense of achievement I get from ticking off mundane chores makes me feel all accomplished and cheerleady. You wouldn’t think paying bills or organising an in-tray would put anyone in a real yes-you-can-do-it frame of mind, but that’s how it appears to work. Buoyed up by little successes, tackling the revision seems a challenge to be enjoyed rather than something fearsome.

Two key factors with to-do lists:

1)      Keep the items small and do-able. Finish the book is too big a chunk to bite off; it’s more likely to lead to drowning your sorrows than making any progress. Write 5,000 words this week or Revise three scenesis better, and will keep you happily busy at your desk instead of throwing yourself off the nearest cliff in despair at the enormity of the task ahead.

2)      Tackle the thing you’re dreading most first. It’s tempting to leave something difficult or uncomfortable to deal with till last, but then it just hangs over your head, blighting everything else and causing unnecessary stress. Bite the bullet and get it over with, then enjoy the feeling of sweet relief at having it out of the way. Usually, once you do it, it turns out not to be that big a deal anyway, and you wonder why you were so worried about it.

And don’t beat yourself up if you don’t get everything ticked off in the allotted timeframe. You may not have accomplished everything you’d hoped to, but usually just setting those targets means that you’ll accomplish more than you would have without them.

So what about you? Do you have any tips on getting things done?

Resistance is futile

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You know how the bad guys in corny movies always say that, usually in a fake German accent? Giff up now, Doktor Jones. Resistance iss futile.

Well, I’ve discovered (or rediscovered) it’s actually much worse than that. Resistance is stressful. Every time you consider doing something you think is going to be hard or unpleasant, and then put it back in the too-hard basket instead, you add to the size of the problem.

“One of the most stressful factors in most of our lives [is] procrastination. Avoiding a subject does not get rid of the stress associated with it. It increases it. The result is that bad time managers are always living with a considerable amount of generalised anxiety.”

Hello, and welcome to my life! I feel as if Mark Forster has been watching me.

I’ve raved before about his book Get Everything Done and Still Have Time to Play. I reread it again last week, and have been putting some of his strategies to good use. As before, I found using a timer to split my time between different tasks helped to relieve stress by making me feel I was making progress on a number of fronts at once.

The other thing that really helped was his technique of assessing your feelings towards the work you have to do. Resistance is not just futile or stressful, it can also be useful! Which is the task you feel most resistance to doing? Make a start on that one.

It’s amazing how good this makes you feel. It’s like a weight being lifted off your shoulders when you finally do something you’ve been dreading. I tackled a few things that have been hanging over my head this last week, and felt so thrilled to be done with them. The stupid part is how not-scary the things I’ve been scared of actually turned out to be when I knuckled down and did them.

So this morning I again asked myself the question: What am I resisting most right now? And the answer came back: Finishing the first draft of Verity. I’ve had only one last scene to write for the last two weeks, and kept finding other things that “needed” doing more urgently.

So I did it.

Yes, folks – nearly two years after I started it, the first draft of Verity Bloom and the Sea of Stars is finally finished. Imagine what a proud mother I am.

Sure, it’s probably crap. But it’s finished crap. Thank you, Mr Foster.

What Marina needs

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I found an idea on Jacqui Robbins’ blog that appeals to my sense of the ridiculous: Type your first name and the word “needs” into Google and see what Google thinks you need.

Marina needs:

1. a better slipway
— sounds vaguely obscene …
2. a facelift
— it’s not that bad … at the right angle … in a dim light
3. an iDockUSA
— this is what comes of having a name that means “boat parking lot”. Thanks, Mum.
4. a home of her own
— or at least a “space” of her own not invaded by kids
5. her rest
— AMEN!!
6. to replace fuel system
— that would be eating more chocolate, I assume
7. a clean-up
— I don’t know; I think I scrub up all right
8. gas
— the less said about this the better
9. a drink
— a cup of tea would be nice, thanks
10. a large hole excavated
— another suggestive one!

I’m jealous; Jacqui needed “werewolf points” so she could become a “Fire Werewolf”. I didn’t get anything that exotic.

What Marina really needs, of course, is to stop stuffing around on the internet and do some writing. But hey, it was fun.

So what do you need?

The little engine that could

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You may notice I’ve put the “cover” of Dragonheart and an up-to-date wordcount widget in the sidebar. Not because I think anyone will be interested in how many words I’ve written, but I because I find the “public accountability” aspect a useful weapon in the war against procrastination. And the cover? Hey, I made it for Nanowrimo and I just like looking at it! Makes me feel all “authorly”.

Having spent the last two weeks celebrating my new freedom to do anything I like by in fact doing very little, I decided that the time had come for butt-in-chair. So on the weekend I read through the manuscript so far of Dragonheart, which I haven’t looked at since November, to get myself back up to speed. I have such a bad memory I’d forgotten where I was up to. Fortunately I still liked it. It was almost like reading a real book. I got engrossed in the story and was quite disappointed when it ended. “But what happens next?”

I wish I knew! I have the next little bit mapped out, but the rest of the book is distressingly vague. My notes to myself are full of “But why?”s and “such-and-such needs to happen – HOW?”. And in the big finale: “some huge complication needed”.

Muse, if you’re paying attention – a little more detail would be helpful. Appreciated, even. My control-freak self hates the not-knowing. Control freak self lies in bed at night going “but why? Why does that character do that?” and getting really frustrated when the answer doesn’t immediately appear. It’s that big gap between being a reader and being a writer. When you read, the story unfolds with such a smooth inevitability you can’t help but imagine it must have fallen fully formed into the writer’s head. If the writer’s done their job, it seems there’s no other way the story could have played out, so once the writer thought of the very first sentence, all the rest of it must have just flowed naturally from there. It’s so easy! Anyone could do it.

If only! I try to console myself by looking back through my notebook and realising how much was unclear when I started, which has since fallen into place. Surely the rest of it will too – eventually. But I’m an instant gratification girl and waiting is just hard.

I know if I keep trudging on it will come. So my little wordcount widget sits there like the beacon on top of that terrible hill that leads to THE END, urging me on.

I think I can. I think I can.

The grass is always greener …

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Whenever I’m writing I feel an almost overwhelming urge to quilt instead. When I finally get around to quilting all I can think of is the books I’m longing to read. In the middle of reading I’ll be wishing I wasn’t so tired so I could get off the couch and do some scrapbooking, and when I’m scrapbooking …

You get the idea. Whatever I’m doing, something else always looks more inviting. When God was handing out attention spans I must have been in the nose line.

About a week ago, it was nearly killing me that I hadn’t read a book since the beginning of November. The only book I wanted in my head was my own and besides, I know how weak I am. If I started to read a book, I’d just read till I was finished and let the writing fall by the wayside. So I was being strong, despite there being several books I was itching to get my hands on.

But then my husband suggested a trip to our favourite book store, Infinitas. Did I say, “no, I couldn’t possibly, I’m too busy writing”? Did I say “get thee behind me, Satan Husband”?

Of course not. I leapt in the car like a golden retriever being offered a ride to the park (although I didn’t stick my head out the window or pant and get drool all over the seat).

My husband promised to hide the books when we got home so I wouldn’t be able to read them till Nano was over, but unfortunately he had to go out straight away and forgot. So there went a large chunk of the next two days, while I devoured The Painted Man by Peter V Brett. (A brilliant read, but more on that in another post.)

But at least it got the reading bug out of my system for a while. I picked myself up, promised to do better, and got back into writing. Only … I started to have lustful thoughts about fabric. Buying it, cutting it into little pieces and sewing it back together. I bought half a dozen patchwork magazines in an effort to get my cravings under control. But by 45,000 words the urge to sew was so strong I could hardly bear to sit down to write. My story was crap, the writing was wooden, my characters bored me senseless. I couldn’t stand it.

The loathing was so strong it took me till about 4 o’clock this afternoon to actually start writing today. It even crossed my mind to give up the whole thing, which would be pretty ridiculous this close to the finishing line. But why was I was doing it, if I hated writing this much? I know plenty of writers say that they go through stages in every novel where they hate the whole thing, but is it really as bad as this?

After it took a couple of hours to write the first 200 words today I gave up on writing full scenes. I just wanted to get it over with, so I started writing down whatever disconnected junk came into my head for the next scene, thinking, I can always come back later and fill it out properly. Just get “the good bits” down. And after I’d done that for a couple of scenes it started to flow again, thank goodness, and I got over my whole I-hate-writing tantrum.

So now I’m at 48,000 words. Hallelujah! By this time tomorrow I should have my life back. On the weekend I can sew!

And by Monday I’ll be saying “I hate sewing! I am never going to finish this quilt!”

*Sigh*

5057

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That’s how many words I’ve written on my Nano novel this weekend. Not a bad start, though as usual it took me much longer than I would like, plus a fair bit of snarling at children to go away and leave me alone. I wish I could write faster. I suspect if I were better prepared it might not take as long. A distressing amount of time is spent staring into space wondering what on earth is going to happen next.

There’s also the issue of the computer I am using this year. I love my computer. It has many wonderful features, including a large monitor, a lovely soft keyboard, lots of memory, cordless mouse and an internet connection. Its bad points are that it is located in the family room and it has an internet connection. Last year I was mainly working on an old machine with a clunky keyboard, tucked away downstairs – and no internet connection. Amazing how much easier it was to concentrate when the internet was not available as a distraction.

Still, I am such a master of the noble art of procrastination I’m sure I could come up with something even without the internet. Yesterday was comical. It took all the self-discipline I possess (yes, all two drops) to sit down at the computer and start. “But it’s so big and scary!” said my inner panicker. “50,000 words. I can’t do it! And there’s so many other things I could be doing. How about scrubbing the shower recess with a toothbrush instead? That should kill a few hours.”

It took me over an hour, but after making cups of tea, getting (and drinking) several glasses of water, visiting the bathroom because of all the water, finding my favourite pen (because, you know, when you’re typing your novel on a computer you really need a pen), gathering all my notes, rereading them, re-rereading them in case I missed something the first time that was so crucial to the (as-yet-miniscule) plot that I couldn’t possibly start without it – after all that, I managed to get started.

So far so good. How is everybody else going?