I’m perplexed by the writing process these days. I’m a neat freak by nature, yet I’m finding it confrontal. Yesterday afternoon, I came across a post written by Jami Gold about being organized. Reading this article, I became more frustration with my own inability to regulate my daily life. Everything she wrote made sense, of course, yet at the same time, I know that 99% of what she advocates is going to be too detailed for my brain to retain. At the same time, being the neat freak I am requires that comprehensive organization she recommends.
Truth be told, I’ve been having trouble organizing ever since I married my husband. I did so well with my entire life when I had a set schedule 24/7. I can fill all the slots of time with worthwhile activities, and that included R&R. Trying to find a schedule that will work everyday while living with my spouse has, so far, been an impossibility. He’s one of those people who do things at the last minute, never thinking about any unforeseen setbacks. Because of this way of life, he ends up spending more time and money doing things that actually should have already been done and at a lower cost.
Being a writer is difficult enough. This is the one activity I have come back to time and time again since I learned how to write full sentences. (I loved first grade.) The words fall onto the paper/screen a little faster than they did so long ago, but it’s still a struggle, even when it appears that the words are flowing like a river—well, with me, it’s never gotten past flowing like a small muddy creek. Yet, because I love doing it for some unexplained reason, I keep trudging along.
My husband doesn’t share this love with me. He used to write poetry way back in high school, but that was before I knew him. He showed me some of his work—good stuff. Somewhere along the way he lost his interest in it. Now he doesn’t have a clue as to what is needed for a writer to do his or her best at this craft. Moreover, he turns a deaf ear to what I ask of him concerning my writing. Indubitably, he doesn’t do it maliciously. He just cannot understand how important this activity is to me.
What does this have to do with being organized, you ask? Usually organization means there’s cooperation because the need for it, in the first place, is due to the need to coordinate your daily life with that of someone else. This is exactly where one of my grievances lay. Even though my creative juices may be flowing at five in the evening, that is when the TV is blaring. He may or may not be in that room. If he’s home, there is noise. Be that as it may, I do have 8 hours during the workweek that are exclusively mine. I get housework done, read blogs, answer email, send email, read chapters in books, and yes, I do get a little writing in there.
Another thing that rattles me is the unnecessary phone calls that plague me as a stay-at-home person. I despise the phone. No matter what ringtone I have, where I have the contraption in my home, or how important the call may be, I hate the phone. When PCs had to be on dial-up to be online, I was in heaven. No one could reach me by phone. (I didn’t have a cell phone. Still don’t.) Unfortunately, I was in a phase of doing web graphic then, so, of course, I wasn’t spending that time writing.
Are you going to tell me to unplug my phone? That really isn’t a good idea. I’ll have everyone at my door wondering if I’m dead. The beauty of the dial-up was everyone thought I was fine and was just having a long conversation with someone.
What this all boils down to is I’m having a hell of a time trying to find a schedule that will allow me at least two hours of uninterrupted time of writing every day. With this problem though, is another one that is purely mine. I did have a time set up for these five days of eight-hour solitude. But then I lost my writing momentum. I won’t call it a block because that isn’t the right word for what is going on with me. I could find things to write about, just not what I had intended to write. I believe this is called a lack of discipline, an unwillingness to break down the barrier between my obstacle and my goal.
The past few days and today I’ve been having some minor digestive problems to add to my predicament. No, I do not have the flu. Anyway, I’ve been using home remedies and sleeping to fight this germ off. In the process, I’ve discovered that I needed the sleep anyway. Now my gumption to write seems to be back. Out of a plight comes relief–weird.
I can only hope I can keep this going. Does anyone out there have some creative ideas that will help me with scheduling and discipline?