tips and tricks – Allison Thurman

how to (not) get all the things done

Late last year I asked for blog post suggestions and got a request for one on How To Get All The Things Done.

frowning stick figure: *all* the things? — Via.

Which is a good question and an “old standard” topic on creative-oriented blogs and podcasts. This subject comes up time and time again because it’s a huge issue. Most ordinary mortals* have day jobs, partners, children, hobbies and/or other things I’ve not thought of that they have to balance with their creative work.

And honestly, most of them have answered this question better than I’m about to. I am so disorganized I’d forget my own name if it weren’t stenciled on the back of my fencing lamé. You’re better off asking creatives who are also mothers of small children. They have to be self-discipline and organizational ninjas in order to get a full night’s sleep, let alone anything else.

No, my big secret is that I don’t do All of the Things.

In fairness, I’m in a good position to avoid some Things. I don’t have children, for one. I also have a partner that is respectful of my time and ambitions and doesn’t get too upset if I don’t fold the laundry**. I make enough money that I can have a cleaner come in once a month so I’m not spending (as much) time on housework. This partly deliberate and partly good luck. I’m aware others may not have the advantages I have.

I’ve also made my peace with knowing that I can do, if not ALL the Things, then more of the Things…eventually. Just not all at once. My time and energy levels permit two non-day job activities. I fence because I love it and because exercise keeps the anxiety demons at bay. Of my other current passions, I can sew or write, but can’t do both.

So I’ve not sewn anything in over a year. I imagine that as writing becomes more job than hobby it will be even longer than that. But there’s always time between books, or waiting for edits, or…something. I’ll figure it out.

And I have a lot of other interests that I’ve set aside for an undetermined later time. Maybe I’ll make jewelry to go with a really great dress. Maybe if I blow out my knees I’ll take up archery***. Maybe I’ll take up painting again at some point.

All the more reason to fence – to keep myself in good enough health that I stand a chance of getting to all the things I’m interested in.

So I guess I’d recommend prioritization and a realistic assessment of what you can do in 24 hours to make sure you don’t bite off more than you can chew. And take the long view – you may not be doing something you love right this minute, but maybe in a few years you can carve out a few hours.

What about you? How do you balance your creative impulses with everyday needs?

*The J.K. Rowlings and Stephen Kings of the world are among the few writers who can make a full-time, profitable living from writing. The rest of us have to pay the bills some other way.

**I do wash my clothes! I’m not an utter slob. And if I didn’t I’d suffocate in a cloud of cat hair. The clothes just don’t always make it into dressers and closets.

***Who am I kidding, I’ll start wheelchair fencing!

HNS recap

This isn’t going to be your usual conference recap.

If I try to list names or sessions I’ll forget someone and I don’t want to risk leaving someone out or appear to play favorites. If you were there, you know who you are, and you made my third(!) HNS conference everything I dreamed it would be and more!

The weekend itself was a delightful, overwhelming blur. Many people met and re-met, many sessions attended, many ideas spawned and shaped.

I’ve not even typed up my notes yet but a few notions stand out:

Make shit up. Hammering a story arc out of Kelley and Dee’s peripatetic activities sent me down research rabbit holes that did nothing to help the story, so “permission” to focus on the fiction in historical fiction in the next book* was supremely freeing!

Do what scares you. If a project seems out of your league, you’re probably on the right track.

Say yes. To ideas, to opportunities, to something or someone you’ve not considered before. You might learn something.

Be flexible. In terms of describing your work, marketing, etc. ‘Cos my manuscript has fingers in multiple pies but doesn’t fit in any one pie tin.

Go gothic. See “be flexible” above. I always thought of “gothic” fiction as something set in the Victorian era that explored the tension between man and technology. Not so – check out these tropes. At HNS 2017 I learned I was writing historical fantasy; this year I further honed that down to gothic fiction. Makes it easier to describe this thing, that’s for damn sure!

Avoid burnout. Because I’ve been skating on the edge of it for months, and enjoy riding that edge until I hit a wall. I may turn off social media apps or designate certain times or days social media-free just for my own sanity. I may also set aside a day a week to NOT work on book-related stuff.

Stay on site, if possible. This is specific to conferences, but not just HNS. This year HNS was in my own back yard but I got a hotel room so I wouldn’t have to cut interesting conversations short to hit the road. Because guaranteed-all the really good conversation takes place after hours.

This publishing thing is incremental. I am thrilled to report that I pitched my novel and got some interest! I’ve sent pages to the relevant parties and while of course I’m hopeful I keep reminding myself: this is just a foot in the door. If it goes nowhere, that’s ok – these pitches were practice for future pitches. If this book goes nowhere, it’s ok – this book was practice for future books. If this book does get representation, that’s only one step in the long process of getting a book on shelves. It’s a cliché but overnight success is never, ever overnight.

picture of an iceberg. Exposed section is the success that people see. All the stuff underwater is the invisible stuff that goes into success: hard work, determination, disappointment, sacrifice, dedication, good habits, failures. — Credit where credit is due: this is Katelyn Shelby‘s. Read the post as well.

As I type this I’m prepping for the final loop in this summer’s roller coaster: Nationals. So it’s going to take me awhile to digest everything I learned last weekend. Maybe I’ll make some headway on my to-read stack between competitions, so there’s that.

*For the next book I am going to avoid real historical figures for this reason. I’m also likely going to write the pitch/synopsis first to keep the story foremost in my mind.

organization

I have crap organizational skills.

Oh, I can do it when I have to, of course, but it’s always an aggravating extra step. I’m not a natural list maker. My clean laundry can stay on the guest bed for weeks. But some jobs are so large that the imposition of a defined order is required. And it’s maddening.

black and white animated gif of disheveled-looking man looking at papers and screaming — Via.

As a newbie writer I’m still working out the best way to collect all critique/beta reader feedback in one place so I can easily refer to it while editing the current* draft.

Some is digital and some is paper. I’ve tried volleying back and forth between 3 hard copies (so far) and multiple Word windows and it’s too confusing.

I’ve handwritten everything on my own printed version and while I have everything in one place I still have to drag a phone-book sized binder around with my laptop. The only places big enough to spread everything are my dining room table and the public library.

So as a last resort I’m going to try adding it all to the current Word** draft as comments. Best of both digital and print.

I hope.

*I hesitate to say “third”. Some parts have had more drafts/are more “done” than others.

**The last draft was restructuring, and Scrivener’s “index cards” functionality was great for moving scenes around easily. Now that I’ve solidified the sequence I want to view it as a whole. That, and a single Word doc is just easier to send to people.

technical issues

I’m typing this with my heart in my throat.

Captain Jack Sparrow, screaming — courtesy Giphy

Well, maybe not quite. Still, after six years my trusty laptop ain’t so trusty. It’s not failing completely, just lags for a stretch at unpredictable times. Right in the middle of a brainwave, no less.

So I spent most of this weekend troubleshooting the spinning beachball of death and it’s fixed–or as fixed as a six-year-old laptop can be. Even so, I look on every character I type with suspicion: will this be the last one before it freezes on me again?

Which is less than awesome as it’s my go-to tool for not only the book but pretty much everything else in my life. Additionally most of my research is on this chunk of plastic and metal; I seldom print anything out.

So how did this affect the Great Work? I didn’t get much writing time until yesterday. And I developed some contingency plans:

Save. As I work, hit ctl-S every ten minutes or so. Just in case.
Back up. Back up early and often. Think you’ve backed it up? Back it up again. Even when the screen was frozen my external drive worked. I’m making damn sure to do it more often than I have been!
Store offsite. Related to backup, my Zotero serves as a research holding area.
Speaking of research, remember that physical books exist And I do have some–not everything is a PDF of some academic article.
Write with pen and paper. Not optimal as my wrists don’t like it and I add to what’s in Scrivener but it’s better than nothing. At least I can spitball plot issues and get general notes down.

So how was your Labor Day weekend?

self-promotion vs. impostor syndrome: the never-ending conflict

I’ve grown disturbingly comfortable with talking myself up.

I say “disturbing” because it goes against everything my inner idiot constantly mutters in the background: who cares what you think, you’re no expert and the inevitable you’re totally making this up as you go along, aren’t you?

Well, yeah, I am.

I go through the motions and try not to think about it. Fence, sew, write like I know what I’m doing to trick myself into being the expert I’m pretending to be. On very good days I believe it, but every misstep is a cue for the inner idiot to hiss in my ear again.

It’s called “impostor syndrome” and I provide no links as you all know how to Google. The job search has me bumping up against it even more than usual.

Promoting the as-yet-unfinished book (and by extension, myself) is extra practice at silencing the inner idiot so I can get through interviews without sweating through my suit.

So, as in every other facet of my life, practice makes perfect (or, at least, better). Anyone else out there feel like they’re just winging it through life? How do you get through that?