Life gets in the way of writing sometimes. The point is not to let it. This week, I've had my first full week back at my day job since injuring myself in the most ridiculous of ways, and I found that the minute I got home, all I wanted to do was pass out.
RESIST.
Most writers must take day jobs. It's fact that playing with imaginary friends, making up your own languages, and plotting to make the lives of fictional people as miserable as possible does not pay right at the starting gate. If in your experience it does, please let me know the name of your publisher and how many times you had to submit your book- I'd love to have a conversation with them. For the rest of us, that means waiting tables, sitting in an office, writing page upon page of technical writing so dry that it spontaneously combusts. No one wants to do these things, but alas, unfed writers do not write.
So how do you deal with the fact that your day job (or night job, if that's your thing) doesn't line up with the desire to put words- your words- to paper? The way I see it, there are three options.
1. Cry.
2. Get very, very sleep deprived.
3. Do it a bit at a time.
Option one is nonproductive, as crying wastes the time that you could be writing, though let's be honest here. Most of us go through a time where we realize how desperately incompatible accepting overtime to fill the fridge is with getting down to the business we want to be doing. Crying at that point seems a reasonable response.
Option two gets results- sometimes. There's something to be said for the occasional midnight (or midday) fling with the word processor. But every single time you should be sleeping? That's going to lead to slides at work, home, and in your writing. Option two is like dessert: wonderful, sumptuous, and not to be indulged in every day.
Option three is my favorite, and the subject of this post. I call it the Day Job Challenge. Set aside ten minutes and get some rump-in-chair writing time in. If it goes past ten minutes into one of those decadent late night indulgences, great. If you can block out an hour, give yourself permission to write on through those ten minutes and make magic. If you're too dang tired, you've still done ten minutes of work, and that's good.
Loss of momentum is the leading cause of death for writing projects. The Day Job Challenge lets you keep it moving even when you've had a billion customers yell at you and you just feel like falling into bed. Ten minutes before bed or after dinner or on your break. That's all it takes.
I'm going to have to practice what I profess, too. Keep me accountable. I've always been a fan of NaNoWriMo, but when that month ends, there's no website keeping track of your goal. Be your own website- make a spreadsheet, keep a calendar. Write a blog. Excuses are lame. See first paragraph for lameness.
We all fall off the wagon and give in sometimes to the weariness of the workplace. But make at least ten minutes per day yours. Put the phone on silent, shut the door on roommates, spouses, kids, pets, parents. And above all else, just do it. Because that's the only way you're ever going to get anything written.
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