Does this sound familiar?
You’ve been scouring and scrubbing, rearranging furniture, dusting cobwebs, and deciding what to wear for the next two weeks. Your dishes are done. Your floor even looks clean. All your piles of papers are filed away. Your books are categorized, alphabetized, and labeled. You’ve baked cinnamon rolls for the neighbors, called your mother, your sister, and scheduled coffee dates with friends.
Busy aren’t you? A major multi-tasker, too. You’re crossing items off that “to-do” list at warp speed.
Except the most important one, the one that you somehow neglected to add to the aforementioned list: writing.
Face it. You’re in AP mode, known in some circles as the “avoidance and procrastination” mode. Trust me. Your PC viral scanner won’t help you with this one. It would be nice if you could relax, have your puter scan your brain for viruses, then clap your hands with commingled disgust and glee as the words, “Scan completed. Bug detected and eliminated” fill your screen along with a simulacra of a wriggling bug.
Since Macafee hasn’t developed that software—yet—you’re going to have to conduct an auto-scan on yourself. The manual is in the mail, but here are a few tips on how to troubleshoot this problem all by yourself:
1. Admit you’re in AP mode. (NOTE: It helps if you say the words aloud, preferably in the mirror so that you can look yourself in the eyes!)
2. Make a list of the reasons why you think you’re in AP mode (I know, this does sound like yet another avoidance tactic, but bear with me.) I suggest carrying around a notepad for just this purpose—and a pen, too, of course.
3. Ask yourself what you have to gain by engaging in these behaviors; then ask what you have to lose by not engaging in them.
4. Set up a reward system. More time for writing would be a great incentive.
5. Get out your daily planner. Make a regular date with yourself to write. I think writing is up there with other daily practices like bathing. Call it mental hygiene, if you like.
6. Now turn off the phone, close and lock all doors and windows (except the ones on your computer!) Ignore the occasional poundings on the front door, the whining, and the threats. I know they’re your friends, but they’re also in AP mode, and hope you’ll play Muse so they can write.
7. Sit down at your computer with all the amenities: coffee, tea, juice, water, cookies, Ben & Jerry’s Caramel Chocolate Swirl, tissue, and whatever else you need to buy time with the Muse.
8. Speaking of the Muse, since there are more than one, pick your favorite and set up a shrine to Her—or Him. Light a candle. Burn incense. Offer money and your precious collection of dragon eggs.
9. Ignore those little voices that pop into your head. You know the ones: “I don’t have time to delve deeply enough into this issue”; “You call yourself a writer?”; or my personal favorite, “This isn’t going anywhere.”
10. Now write like there’s no tomorrow, just this one moment expanding in all directions. You can transcend time and space. Command the elements. Shapeshift. Resurrect the dead.
You can do it! After all, you’re a writer!