Which Kind of Pandemic Writer are You?

Hello, fellow writers! Please forgive me; it’s been I-have-no-idea-how-long since my last post (which I also began with a line like this).

I have many writer friends, and the dichotomy of their social media posts has been extreme. Half of them are posting updates like:

“I wrote the equivalent of War and Peace, organized my studio, and delivered food to the homeless. After lunch, I configured all the necessary shortcuts on my keyboard. I’m sitting here in my Zen chair at my altar with this lovely glass of wine to relax for a moment before I go online live, teaching a free class on “Character Dialogue” (if any of you are interested, follow this link). Would anyone like to be a beta-reader for two of my books (“Ayurvedic Medicine” and “Anyone Can Be MacGuyver”)?
What are you up to today?”

The other half are posting updates like:

“I got off the couch today. (Daily word count: 6)”

This whole ‘situation’ (shitshow, really) seems to have had that divisive effect on the writing community. It’s affected every single person in the world differently, but now I’m just talking about writers. We are either super-productive or slugs, with no in-between. Have you noticed that about yourself? Which are you?

I’m both – and there is still no in-between. Which side I’m on depends on the day; I’m either a writing machine or lump on the couch. I can’t honestly say that I haven’t written much here because I was busy writing elsewhere, because that would only be true sometimes. Sometimes, I was just decorating my bed.

Anyone else like that?

Last month, I edited a book in a week. I did nothing else that week. Then I made up for it by doing nothing at all the following week.

This month, I’ve been working with another writer. For three hours a day maybe three or four days a week, we are editing her book together, chapter by chapter. On some days, that motivates me to stay at the computer and write my own stuff; other days … that’s enough writing for today.

When the rhythm is there, it’s there. When it’s not, it’s just not. I love that and hate it.

Two weeks ago I created a journal and published it on Amazon. I can’t really say I wrote a journal, can I? It’s all blank places for someone else to write. But it was all formatting and designing and did take time. (Those of you who’ve published with KDP can understand the formatting issues I may have come up against.) And it was a creative idea that I acted on. So, it counts, right?

Basically it’s a time capsule kind of journal, specifically for this year 2020, (this whole shitshow) with prompts and list ideas all relating to keeping track and writing about what we are going through individually.

For all my not writing too much here, I have been pushing others to write about any and all experiences during this time. We have the opportunity to write history, people! In real time! So that 200 years down the line, not one person will be able to say that the history they are being taught is not factual or incomplete!

I’ll get off the soapbox now.

Anyway, a writer friend of mine made a big deal about my publishing this journal so soon after publishing my book book (in November). She posted a great review with the line:

“I’m ordering today, once I get over my jealousy that she thought up such a genius book AND made it available so soon.”

Yes, my peacock feathers absolutely blossomed at the first half of the sentence – and I completely deflated at the last.

“… made it availabe so soon.”

I didn’t, really, and I know it. Do you want to know when I came up with the idea, the whole, complete, done-in-my-head idea? March 23, the day after I got fired. Three months ago! I had an idea for something that I knew would only be relevant for a short period of time and didn’t act on it for three months? It wasn’t until it nagged at me enough while I was slugging about that I finally got off of my ass and did it. I’m lucky that people are still showing interest in it, it’s out so much later than it should have been!

So now I can’t even celebrate that accomplishment as ‘something I did’ because all I think about is that it was ‘something I should have done‘. If I’d been fully-functional, and not the half-sloth (probably closer to 3/4), how much more could I have done?

Of course, I have to stop beating myself up. I have to acknowledge my depression (and stop beating myself up for that, too).

I think I mentioned once before here that I was going to make some kind of schedule, some kind of time management grid that (if I followed it) would have specific chunks of time devoted to the different writing projects – and I could be timely and consistent. Obviously, by the fact that I said I may have mentioned this before, this is yet another example of an older thought I haven’t acted on.

I’m aware I make excuses. One of my favorites is the fact that the world situation keeps changing and therefore schedules keep changing. What will happen to that awesome schedule if/when I have to go back to work outside of the house? Now, I sound like my kids: why bother, if it’s going to change? Oy.

The writing is already on the wall (pun intended) for today. I’ve already worked a bit with my friend, and now I’ve done this.

That’s enough writing for today.

Maybe it won’t be. I can only hope.

“What are you up to today?”