I like to think of myself as fairly disciplined when I put my mind to it. I get a modest amount of exercise, I eat sort of well (certainly compared to how I would like to eat), and I try to limit my leisure time.
As a stay-at-home dad my days are typically in service to my son or the upkeep of the household, so leisure time isn't really a factor (and let me be clear, this is not any sort of flex — I have a looong way to go to live up to the bar Annie set and continues to uphold). Mind you, when Gideon is in the mood to allow it, I'm granted about half an hour of reading time first thing in the morning while he gets his blood moving with some Cheerios and The Wiggles. Any other free time during the day is frantically put towards whatever chores need getting done or supper preparations.
Honestly, this is how I like it. I tend to stagnate if I'm not being productive.
So when do I write? Exactly.
Most days of the week, Annie will take charge of putting Gideon to bed while I feed the animals and tidy the kitchen of our collective supper mess. Beasts fed and kitchen tidy, I'll say goodnight to Gideon (it usually takes a while for him to wind down for bed) and hole away in my office for a minimum of an hour.
The time spent in my office depends entirely on the project I have on the go or, since I typically have more than one on the go, which project I'm focussing on. Currently I'm going through the final rewrite of my novel before querying literary agents so I typically stick to the one-hour schedule these days.
I love the rewriting process but at this point I've read this work so many times that I have to take it word-by-word to ensure I don't skim over anything. Familiarity breeds blindness, at least in the case of the written word. Especially when said word comes from the reader's own mind. For instance, as many times as I've read it, I'm still coming across the occasional silly typo. And that's after having other readers proof it for me.
The work is exhausting on my eyeballs, especially after a day of chasing around a one-year-old while keeping a small pack of dogs relatively entertained. Children and beasts alike tend to become destructive when bored.
After my allotted office hours (or hour), I allow myself to use whatever conscious hours I have left to watch an episode of something or read whatever book I've got on the go or, often, both. Usually this is accompanied by a stiff drink, admittedly carried forward (and possibly refilled) from my office hours.
The hour or so of me-time at the end of the day is vital to my mental and emotional well-being. It's completely possible to function without it, of course. I can even do it with a smile on my face. But the lack of release builds up. Even if I can stay positive outwardly, I might find myself in a negative headspace that will typically hinder my creative thinking. And sometimes, God help me, it comes out as snarkiness towards my awesome wife, which makes me feel terrible and guilty and, consequently, more negative.
This means that a lot of my time management throughout the day is done with a heavy focus on preserving at least an hour of me time at the back end of it.
And mistake me not, me time is not an exclusive activity. While Annie and I tend to enjoy different forms of evening entertainment (you won't catch me watching Working Moms), I am just as rejuvenated spending leisure time with her as I would be spending it on my own. Sometimes that means I read my book while she plays Animal Crossing, or I play Breath of the Wild while she watches one of her shows. Proximity is often good enough for us.
Though I try to make sure I am doing at least something to further my writing career every day of the week, I took a much-needed break from it all for a couple of days over Christmas. This was a very different holiday season, of course, because of the pandemic.
Like so many others, we're in a much more delicate financial situation than we've ever been in. Because of this, we decided not to buy presents this year for anyone else or each other. Gideon was the exception. Even so, the majority of his gifts were secondhand toys that Annie managed to get for free. We spent the night of Christmas Eve scrubbing them down with homemade disinfectant. As two people who love to give gifts, this was tough.
All told, it may have been the most wholesome Christmas we've celebrated. Gone was the pressure to find the perfect gifts. Instead of time shopping, we had time with each other and with our son. And instead of having our attention being taken up with a new gadget or accessory, our attention on Christmas morning was wholly focused on our son as he ignored most of his presents in favour of a plastic egg. It was magical and refreshing.
Things have certainly not worked out exactly as I've wanted them to. But this forced change in pace, in perspective, and in our lifestyle has challenged me in some really positive ways. Having to work on this rewrite a little slower is forcing me to think through my work a lot more. The result, I believe, is a much better novel.
That said, I'm looking forward to starting in on my next project. There's nothing like crafting the first draft; staying up in my office way too late, telling myself the story for the first time, writing to beat the devil. Those will be the days when I'll have to remind myself (and it may take Annie reminding me) to make sure I'm taking time for myself.
The most important thing to me in all this is being a good husband and father. It's like the people in the airplane safety videos tell you: Secure your own oxygen mask before assisting others. It's not a perfect metaphor, of course, but I'm trusting you're intelligent enough to catch my meaning.
It would mean the world to me if you'd share this with your friends, family, colleagues, bookclub members, etc. There should be a button...somewhere around here...
Feel free to drop me a line. Let me know if you loved this or hated it. Have suggestions? Fire away. Need someone to talk to? I'm here.
Either way, thanks for being here.
Whatever it is, the way you tell your story online can make all the difference.