Good Work, Messy Desk

My Desk at Home (sigh)

Today is the beginning of my 9^th week of sabbatical from my teaching job at Red Rocks Community College.

My desk is slowly being overrun by all the books and plays I think I’m going to read before January. My laptop is filling up with folders of chapter bits that are not yet coming together in a coherent way. I’m following #writingcommunity on various social media platforms, so when I start to doom scroll at least one writer reminds me that I should be writing. And I’ve piled up a lot of words.

To be honest, my neat-freak personality is taking a hit. As I stare at the untidy words on my screen, I abdicate responsibility and go do a load of laundry.

It’s funny how projects get messy before they start to get good. I suspect this is true of a lot of pursuits—artistic and otherwise. Once you truly dive into the center of a project, it’s chaotic. It feels like the opposite of the eye of the storm. This is also true when my students, staff, and I produce a show; and I don’t know why I haven’t made that connection until now. In theater, it can be pure chaos right before everything comes together opening night, but it all works out. Sometimes, the more chaotic the process, the better the performance.

Evidently, the same is true for writing.

Last week, I took a little break from the piles of book bits to find out if I could pull some wisdom from other writers. I came across this video that turned out to be a nice pep talk: 5 Famous Authors’ Writing Routines. Tomi Adeyemi’s advice was my favorite, because it reminded me to add a bit of fun into the process.

I’ve been spending a lot of time at the Denver Public Library downtown, and after getting advice from this famous author to add a pinch of fun, I made a bold subversive move—smuggling a small bag of jellybeans in with me.

I know! Such a rebel, right?

I was caught within 30 minutes by one of the security guards.

Well, “caught” is an overstatement. Evidently, they don’t care if you nibble on small, non-messy treats. He just smiled and kept walking. Whew! That went much better than last week, when I got kicked out of the Denver Art Museum for staying 30 minutes past closing.

Still, for some reason that tiny move that I thought was rebellious got my creative juices going, and I had a great day of writing. Or maybe it was the sugar rush.

Several writers in the video also mentioned repetition. Consistent and repeatable practice is important. You’ve got to show up routinely. This sabbatical has forced me to test out their advice. I’m writing five days a week, building an actual writing practice. I never had time to do that before, and it feels good. Writing a book requires serious discipline. I’d love to watch movies all day, but there would be no book at the end of the sabbatical. Instead, I go to the library—with or without jellybeans—and I stay until I’ve filled a few pages. I’d like to continue this practice after my sabbatical, and I’m already wondering how to fit it into a real-world schedule.

Turns out, some writers start their work ridiculously early in the morning to fit it in—like 4 am. I tried this. Once. Not likely to happen again. I’d love to have that extra time, but after spending the entire first part of my professional career as a theater performer, my internal clock still leans toward late evenings rather than pre-dawn hours. Several attempts to change that routine have not worked out.

Another habit I have picked up and kept is the morning pages. I learned this one many years ago from The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron. The idea is to write without stopping for 3 pages every morning. It is a fantastic routine that I truly enjoy, because it calms down all the voices in my head so I can get to work on the project at hand. I would never want anyone to read the whiny, selfish garbage that shows up on those pages, though. As soon as I fill a journal, I promptly throw it in the trash. But meditation on the page seems to work well. Also, writing by hand feels like different brain work compared to typing on a laptop.

Another suggestion that may seem counterintuitive to creating a routine is not to force it. If the work starts to get bogged down, take a break. So far, ideal breaks have been running in the park and knitting—very different options that both provide relief from writer’s block.

Getting outside is a great way to let the brain work out puzzling sections in the background while enjoying a beautiful day. And shout out to Grandma E, who taught me the post-apocalyptic life skill of knitting when I was in grade school. I have found it to be a wonderful way to take a meditative break . . . and eventually end up with a sweater!

There is much to learn when dealing with big chunks of unscheduled time. My regular work life follows the rhythm of classes and meetings and rehearsals, but sabbatical is a sea of uncharted time. Navigating toward smaller, manageable bits is helping with productivity and pointing me toward the big goal of a completed book draft by January.

Back to work!