Procrastination is the thief of time.
— Edward Young
No, that’s not supposed to be me in the picture. I would never lay claim to actually enjoying my procrastination. It is a thing, though.
As I slide into pre-retirement from a successful 20-plus year career as a professional writer, I still fall prey to the almost inevitable feeling of not getting enough done. I have many projects: a current novel, still a WIP (work-in-progress), closer to the finish than the starting line; a massive book comprising all my poems and songs since I started writing verse; and another novel, partly written and closer to the beginning than the finish line.
This type of list might make my non-writer readers think, “Oh, you’ve accomplished a lot.” Conversely, my fellow writers, if aware that I’ve published “only” four novels and one short story collection, might easily opine, “What? That’s it?”
One thing I’ve never claimed to be is prolific.
But What About This Procrastination of Which You Speak?
Here’s the thing about my process: when writing articles on deadline, I could churn out a dozen a month, more if required. But when it comes to my fiction, I labor over it like a sweatshop drone.
Fortunately or unfortunately, planning or plotting, sometimes I get kind of stuck. And because I often edit as I go—in order to pick up the thread of wherever I left off—sometimes I have to go back to previous chapters and read through them to gain momentum that leads to new text. (See my previous post on plotting, pantsing, and “plantsing.”)
Luckily for me, I’ve managed to get some good things done today. The WIP stands at nearly 200 pages, and I know much about what will come next. I’ve had situations in the distant past where I’ve gotten stuck for years—literally for seven years, in the worst case.
I hope nothing like that happens again in the future. But like Clint Eastwood said in the movie Absolute Power, “Tomorrow is promised to no one.”
Happy reading and writing, friends!
