Lost Time

Between my last MFA Residency (July 27-Aug 6) and the start of the new semester (Aug 29), I had big plans to write "lots." Yep, my plan was definitive. Lots. After all, I'm used to writing significant amounts in the found spaces of my life. I wrote 6 of my 7 novels while working multiple jobs and studying/writing for my Master of Fine Arts, so 3 weeks in limbo sounded like a finished novel. Right?

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Ha. We plan and the writing gods laugh.
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First, I had surgery to remove kidney stones (I'm still recovering, but in denial).

Second, I needed a break. The past two years were an amazing feat and I'm thrilled that my first book published in July 2015 has turned into two book series and seven novels, but my creative well is bone dry. I couldn't plot my way out of a B-rated horror movie right now.

​Third, I had business stuff, like writing some nonfiction articles and teaching my novel writing class (if you guys/gals are reading this, I love you and I do in fact enjoy it), but that's one more "to-do" that isn't writing.

And the new semester starts Monday. 😲 Somehow I lost 3 weeks and I'll never get them back! I don't feel well rested, I didn't get a suntan or a vacation, and I didn't catch up with housecleaning (my desk is worse than normal peeps!).

I have 3 days until the new semester begins. I'll teach a full load of 6 classes. I'm thankful. I love my students and my kids like to eat, so it's a win-win situation, but... writing? New plan.

• I'll teach M/W and do all my grading between classes (cue laugh track).
• That leaves me Tu/Th/F to write and Sa/Su for family (cue studio audience doubled over, tears of laughter rolling down their faces).

While trolling the internet, every writer's favorite form of avoidance, I ran across "A Little is Enough," by Allison K Williams in Brevity Magazine. She talked about Andre Debus III who wrote 17 minutes before work and 17 minutes after work while sitting in his car. That's all the time he had.

Note to self:
✅ You don't need forty hours of uninterrupted time.
​✅ You need dedicated time.

It reminded me that I didn't write those last six books with "a lot" of spare time. I wrote it in the spaces of an already crowded life. I used writing sprints, 30-40 minutes at a time to write one sentence, page, scene, or chapter at a time.

In a way, I feel as if my lost time was a waste, but maybe it was good for me to realize that excessive amounts of time actually lead me to excessive amounts of internet. I work best when I'm rushed, pressured like a lump of coal turning into a diamond.

How do you work best?