All a matter of timing (and too little of it)
Published by on August 22nd, 2008
I wrote on my personal blog about how work - that’s the bit that actually pays the rent right now - overshadows pretty much everything else, including the creative writing. When writing has to be squeezed-in to available hours, it can be tough to summon up the inspiration.
The day-to-day demands of working in the UK but with colleagues based in San Francisco, presents challenges to available time. With work heating up for me at around the time it should be winding down each day (early evening), and the potential for it to extend well past a sensible bedtime, the only controlled and contained time span to write appears first thing in the morning. But there’s a problem… I cannot write in the mornings!
I was lucky enough to have time for a lunch with the entertainingly cranky John Dvorak while in San Francisco a few weeks ago. We chatted about writing. He, like nearly all the writers with whom he is acquainted, writes better in the mornings “before all the crap of the day has taken hold”.
I, on the other hand, rarely find the juices flowing until darkness has set in and there’s a distinct chance that the day is not going to throw me another twelve curve balls. There’s a psychological security in that knowledge, you see.
Before it becomes a full-time prospect
It’s my first novel. Like any fledgling writer, the chance of earning a living wage from such projects is marginally better than winning the National Lottery. Four of five books under my belt and there’s a chance of that dream, but for now writing must find its place amongst everything else.
So how on earth do I switch into becoming a morning writer?
I am one of those slow-wakers: up to an hour of numb-brain, zombie-shuffle during which breakfast, some BBC news, and the necessary ablutions seem to occur without any real effort or conscious intent. Eventually, there I am at my desk tip-tapping my login ready for the morning’s mundane tasks. Creative writing is far from my mind.
When it’s dark and the work day is done, my mind comes alive, creatively. Characters speak up and scenes play themselves out so that I have to type twice as fast to keep up. When all the gears are properly lubricated, 800-1000 quite acceptable words in an evening session is not unheard of. In the morning, I am lucky to find a coherent sentence any more creative than an email or a blog post.
I do not believe in insurmountable obstacles, and have discovered way to dramatically increase the chances of triggering creativity when it becomes necessary. Although a method for morning writing still eludes me, I’m looking forward to solving this particular problem.
