Writing: A Process~
Most days, weather permitting, this is the "office" where I get to work. The sky never looks more beautiful than it does from the grocery store parking lot, but the view from the balcony of my apartment can feel like a close second some days. Tree branches bring a bit of shade and a lot of wildlife, some a nicer addition than others (birds that entertain my cats through the screen door are great, but I could do without the wasps). With noise cancelling headphones to drown out the neighborhood kids and a good soundtrack, normally a single song on repeat, the mood is set to get some words down on virtual paper.
Some days, it's as easy as that. Filling the screen with whatever application I'm writing in that day, I can crank out thousands of words with a barebones outline in hand by letting my fingers do the (dirty) work. Typing sentence after paragraph after chapter, nothing feels better than the times where I can enjoy a beautiful moment of providence that provides effortless results to move me leagues ahead on my story. If I could find a way to make these instances more consistent, I'd be unstoppable.
But the truth of the matter is that kind of day isn't the most common occurrence for me. In fact, it barely ever works this way.
Most days look more similar to the picture below: a haphazard and infuriatingly jumbled series of windows and apps that all barely work together in any cohesive way. Clicking between my writing notes, a thesaurus for when I inevitably can't think of the word I want, text messages that are an active distraction, and a browser with dozens of unsorted reference and research tabs, Scrivener can get buried beneath the chaos. Since my brain needs information visible at all times or it forgets it exists, sometimes keeping focused on the task at hand can feel like an almost impossible balance to strike.
And other times I only get as far as the paragraph above this before it's tomorrow and I have to pick up where I left off (and edit down the nonsense I initially thought was insightful).
There are some small "tricks" that I can try to stay focused, but they vary on effectiveness by the day. Pomodoro timers, physically removing distractions (throwing my phone out of reach), focus settings on my laptop, each and every one of these has a time and place.
Sometimes I even work with others loosely in sprints, a handful of us all trying to stay focused for small bursts of time with the eyes of other people watching to hold ourselves accountable. Shoot, I'm in a sprint right now and still failing to make worthwhile progress on this post! They can be SO helpful sometimes, but they can also bring a new kind of distraction into the mix: socialization. My Achilles heel.
How much of this is undiagnosed and untreated ADHD and how much of this the "normal" writing process? The world may never know, and I certainly won't until I talk to my doctor.
But at the end of the day, all of us are dealt cards that we don't really have any input on. Sometimes we can exchange a few, but sometimes we get what we get. An ace may be cool on its own, but when it's the one card that keeps you from a flush it can be an unwanted addition to your hand. All we can ever do is our best with what we're given, even when you're given the maid in a game of five card draw.
Some days the best I can do is staring at a screen in the hope words type themselves, and that's okay. Other days feel like pulling teeth, but at the end I at least have a few things that I can work with. Each day brings its own challenges, but I have to remember that they can almost always be overcome. And on the days where they can't, it's okay to give myself some grace. Whether I watch a shitty movie, grab myself my favorite snack, smoke a joint, or all of the above, it's important to remember to be kind to myself on the tough days. It's like watering plants, rest days give my brain the nutrients to grow and focus on the tasks I put in front of it the next day.
No one has perfect productivity every single day. That sounds obvious, but sometimes I have to remind myself that I shouldn't hold myself to that standard because I do. As much as I'd love it, I'm not built different like I like to pretend.
Writing is a process, and that process can vary from two to two thousand words a day. Those words can be purposefully written during normal business hours or jotted down in a cold sweat at 2 AM out of fear they'll be gone by the time the sun rises. No matter the case though, I have to remember that it's important to push forward in whatever way I can each and every day. The process can only progress when I put in the time and effort to ensure it does.