Navigating time

I am returning to my "day job" in a couple of weeks, following what my college calls a "reassignment." The reassignment is like a mini-sabbatical that offers one a chance to release one's self from daily duties of the workplace in order to delve more deeply into a long-term project. I feel in some ways that I never left my day job entirely, as I felt that it was still important to attend some -- though definitely all -- meetings and to be responsive to the students for whom I serve as mentor. This situation -- coupled with deadlines for long writing projects that were not completed earlier -- sort of frittered the reassignment time away. Still, I feel that I got more accomplished than I would have if I hadn't had this release time, and learned some things about when, where, and how I write best. Most significantly, the time off gave me a mental and emotional refresher, and I find that as November nears, I am looking forward to being back on the job full time.

So what did I learn about writing that might be useful to pass on?

For starters, I discovered that a three-stint approach seems to work well for me, and is something that I might be able to continue with my life when I am back to work full-time.

I have described in previous posts my years of doing "morning pages." These three pages of longhand writing form the core of Julia Cameron's Artist's Way philosophy, and are aimed at first clearing out the "mental junk" that's keeping one from doing real, serious creative work and two getting to the creative work itself. I have fifteen years of history now as evidence that the practice works -- for me, at least. I have drafted syllabi, roughed out papers, written poetry and prose, and pushed numerous now-published pieces forward simply through the doing of morning pages.

What I have found, however, is that the morning pages do not necessarily lead all the time to the actual doing of creative work. The pages take 42 minutes for me to write when I am working at my fastest, and sometimes a couple of hours when I'm deep into a train of thought that I don't want to let go of. I can close the notebook at the end of that two hours feeling a sense of accomplishment over having broken through a block or having worked out something that was bothering me. But the bottom line is that longhand writing in our 21st century society is incomplete. If you want to save what you have written, you have to type it up. Typing is time-consuming, especially as it often means editing along the way. Typing also can be tedious, and I'm the type of person who finds ways to put off doing that which will be tedious. Hence, great ideas or good thoughts might sit in my notebook for days or weeks, before finding their way into the essay that I'm working or the other longer piece.

I decided to try a second tactic beginning last April, which was to free-write nightly at a site known as 750Words.com. The site's organizers -- Buster and KelliAnne (at least these are the names they use on the site) -- set it up as a free space where users could do morning pages in an electronic format. If you sign on, you receive a daily e-mail urging you to write and a congratulatory note after you've done the work. Silly as it seems, those e-mails have a powerful effect. I have written every night for 197 days straight, and about 90 percent of the short pieces that I've produced have found their way into blogs or other spaces.

However, 750Words.com has its drawbacks, too, at least in the manner in which I've been using it. It's great for creating what I'll call "one-hit wonders" -- short pieces that can spew from heart-to-head-to hands on keyboard with minimal pain. But, from my perspective, it doesn't lend itself easily to longer-term projects. It's all about what can be begun, developed, and concluded in one sitting. Unlike the pen-and-paper notebook, it doesn't seem to work quite well in terms of allowing one to pick up the next day what was started earlier.

Some of this might be because I almost always do the 750Words.com writing at night -- after a day of work, running, cooking and enjoying dinner with my spouse. The writing occurs as I am relaxing, and reflecting on what has occurred that day. It's about closure, about ending so I can start again tomorrow -- not with something that trailed off in the middle but with something new. I like writing and sharing the quick hit pieces on my blogs, and the small but fairly loyal audience that I've been able to attract seems to like these pieces, too. So, I'd like to keep them. Which brings me to the three-stint approach.

If morning pages are a preparation for a day and 750Words.com is a culmination of the day, the middle section of the day is essentially the day itself. One might think of that middle time as the eight-hour work day, where one prepares a to-do list and tries to carry it out as best as possible. Often, of course, the work day means personal aspirations are set aside because "the stuff" that one must do to serve the collectives with which one affiliates comes up. For me, that stuff is grading, responding to e-mails, troubleshooting problems that arise, completing tasks, and, yes, meeting with others. It also means, however, things like bringing in the harvest, paying bills, making sure I get my workouts in, and doing my share of what needs doing at home.

Technically, I was supposed to be free of the work obligations at least over the past two months. Realistically, I wasn't free because needs keep arising. "Stuff" -- both at work and at home -- often is rooted in relationships. To keep the relationships strong, one can step back but not tune out. What I learned as the time ticked on was that I actually was okay with that, as long as I was able to get in a third stint of writing at least two or three days a week. I also learned that these stints follow a law of diminishing returns. Unless you're in the fervor of the almost-finished (as I was last night and stayed up gladly until 2:25 a.m. to push to the end), you're probably going to get more done in two or three hours of writing than in a whole day devoted to nothing but the page. There are exceptions to that rule, of course, such as the enormous amount of writing that I can accomplish when I'm fortunate enough to be locked up in a hotel room or at a retreat center and am able to receive all meals, no Internet, and anything else I need. But the regular norm seems to suggest: do the two or three hours, then get up.

I am fortunate to have a job as a faculty member for an online learning center within an accredited and respected college. The characteristics of my job mean that "stuff" happens all the time, around-the-clock, 24/7, and because of that, I can organize my day around so that I write in a non-negotiable way. The challenge is living up to one's own commitments and not allowing that which was defined as non-negotiable to be negotiated away. And, so, for the next few months, as I return to work in a full-time way, my plan is to enact the three-stint day: morning pages, 750words at night, and two to three non-negotiable hours of writing at least three times a week in the middle of the day. I'll keep you posted on how it progresses.