Procrastination

by Sharon May

 

Here I am drafting a blog on procrastination the Sunday morning of submission day. What are the odds? I committed to writing this a month ago but didn’t start a draft in all that time. Instead, I mulled the topic, considering what to say and how to start. A few days ago, I jotted down ideas I wanted to include, though today I declared them useless.

 

I am a procrastinator of the finest ilk. It is my roadblock to productivity, and I am far from being in recovery. My writing routine is so ingrained that I’m almost convinced it’s my “style.” I mean, it has served me fairly well since high school, having won awards for my work. Notice: I’m just rationalizing.

 

We all have our own methods of avoidance. No fretting on my part, and I may not appear to be procrastinating because I immediately ponder, read, and research the topic as necessary. It’s almost obsessive thinking, as I talk over my ideas over with family and friends, whomever I can corral, and I listen to their thoughts on the subject as well, bouncing them all around in my head until it’s time to sit down at the laptop. No matter the project – long or short, major or minor – I wait until the last minute to write, and even determine how last minute the writing will be by setting a deadline for drafting. Telling me to start early is not really useful as I’m stuck in the beginning.

 

I’ve been writing other works, but not so much that it prevented me from completing this task. So, I’ve taken approximately 28 days to write 500 words. I could have knocked it out on any one of those days. Instead, I surfed the Internet for articles on writers’ procrastinating, watched several men’s and women’s basketball games, and who knows what else I’ve done in that time period beyond the typical activities of living. Then I took a five-day vacation out of town, during which I did no writing.

 

When my deadline arrived, I started my usual avoidance routine -- slept late rather than obey the alarm I had set, had a leisurely breakfast, took care of the cats, and chatted with a couple of friends who are also early risers. At the computer, I fought the urge to clean my workspace, though I couldn’t resist checking my email. Finally, I opened a blank document and begged the muses for words. Fortunately, the muse does finally come and words appear on the page.

 

Procrastination can be a matter of priorities. It’s how we choose to live in the moment, and procrastinators live without considering the consequences. My choices make me less productive than I could be, though I can convince myself that I’m always working. I keep trying to set goals and deadlines to move me to more seat time, but habits are stubborn.

 

How do you measure procrastination?

On the Bedside Table

By Bonnie Stanard

 

I've been asked where I get my inspiration to write. It has taken a while, but I've figured out a response, which comes as close to an answer as I can get. More times than not, my ideas come from books. There's always a book on my bedside table (currently The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco, and The Lottery by Shirley Jackson).

 

Several years ago I read Rest in Pieces by Bess Lovejoy and didn't realize at the time that a chapter about Moliere would eventually inspire a novel.

 

Rest in Pieces recounts the adventures of Moliere's corpse. The famous French actor was stricken on stage, was removed to a house across the street, and died shortly thereafter. At the time, the Catholic Church condemned actors. Most of them renounced their profession to a priest just before dying to get a Christian burial. However, Moliere died without a priest. No Christian burial for him. Louis XIV intervened and the Church relented and allowed a burial at night somewhere in St. Joseph's cemetery, but nobody marked the site. Even his wife, upon returning to the cemetery, couldn't find his grave. His body was lost. But an idea grew and my novel found his grave and a character stole his skull. I have Lovejoy's book to thank for sending my imagination off to France in 1672.

 

Here's a thought I'm having now. At present I'm working on another historical fiction about a person being held in a prison-like chamber of a chateau. It's become a challenge to develop this story, given a situation in which nothing happens. When I mentioned this to a friend, he enthusiastically recommended a book with just such a plot—"A Gentleman in Moscow," which he said was a story about a man held prisoner in a hotel. I've ordered a copy but do I dare read it now? Will it unduly influence what I hope will be my story? Might I subconsciously copy from that story?

 

We subconsciously and unconsciously and deliberately take information from books, which is one reason why we should read authors whose work we admire. We might find in another book a person, place, or plot that motivates us to develop a story.

 

If that happens, it won't be the first time. Take a look at writers who based their work on previously published book.

 

The Hours by Michael Cunningham on Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Wolfe.

Ulysses by James Joyce on The Odyssey by Homer

March by Geraldine Brooks takes a character from Little Women

Robinson Caruso re-written by J.M. Coetzee (Foe) and Michel Tournier (Friday)

 

From Steven King comes advice that doesn't grow old: "Read, read, read. You have to read widely, constantly refining (and redefining) your own work as you do so. If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have the time (or the tools) to write."