Two Weeks in One

Ever feel like you've packed too much living into a very short time?

It was that kind of week for me. My daughter had a bad car accident the first of the month. She's doing just fine and will come home Monday. Despite extensive breakage in her upper body (sternum, clavicle, three ribs, and a punctured lung) there were no internal injuries and she was fully alert from the very beginning.

She has a terrific attitude and set to work cooperating with the physical therapists.

Logistics in our family are always complicated. Her youngest daughter will soon start classes at CSU. Her oldest is starting a new job. The deadline for my new mystery is September 1. We've worked everything out. I'll even have the mystery finished by the end of next week.

I drove to Kansas Tuesday to give a talk to the librarians in the Northwest Kansas Libraries System. What a terrific group of people! I was grateful for this opportunity. However, I drove through cascades of rain. It was bizarre. Kansas is usually dry.

Accidents always take a toll and I'm tired. Persons who wait for inspiration before they write are making a mistake. Once a line is crossed--when one assumes the responsibilities of a professional writer--the rules change. Or rather rules come into play for the first time.

I've read there are 75 persons involved in the production of a traditional book. There are many little deadlines that involve creating cover copy, a synopsis, courting the sales reps.

Life becomes capsulized. We learn to juggle. And before you know it, there's a new happy normal and all the balls are back in the air again.

Deadlines: The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

I'm writing this post while giving my mind a break from the squirrel-chasing that occurs when a deadline is at hand for something I'm working on. In this case, it's a 900-word article. I wrote a first draft in long hand last night while sitting in bed. After a hectic day, I was able to get my thoughts down on paper. Harry, my cat, had eaten his snack and gone off to his own bed (no more meows to sit in my lap as I worked at my computer or mad dashes through the house as he burned off energy). The house was quiet, and the words flowed -- or, at least, find their way in stops and starts -- onto the sheets of loose-leaf paper. I write on loose-leaf notebook paper when I need to focus. I think it has something to do with being a teacher or maybe having been a student trying to get a paper done.

I got my article written last night, but I knew even as I wrote that it was only a rough draft. And nothing would have been gained by trying to move beyond that last night. And this morning, I had to send a note to the editor who is waiting for the piece to say that I will submit this afternoon. I have missed my mid-morning deadline. But it would have been wasted energy to immediately plunge into getting the draft into my computer. First, I need to re-read with a big mug of tea at hand.

This deadline reminds me of the good, bad, and ugly of deadlines. The good:  a deadline requires a writer to focus his or her attention if it is to be met. The bad: the stress of focusing his or her attention may result in panicked gazing at a blank sheet of paper or computer screen. The ugly: in panic mode, he or she may rush to get something -- anything -- down on the page and off to a waiting editor.

For a moment last night -- as almost every time I sit down to write a draft -- I was in panic mode. Although I know what I'm writing about and knew what I wanted to say, it was all jumbled up. I had spent time re-reading research material. For much of last evening I made less valuable use of my time by imagining how an invisible reader would react to each word, every turn of phrase. I needed to shut off that voice and get down to business. Finally, well after midnight, with ballpoint pen in hand, I got a draft down on paper.

But this morning, I needed to take an hour or two to let my mind clear. And now I have a new deadline. I emailed to say I will deliver the article in three or four hours. The editor I'm working with kindly understood.

I hate missing deadlines, and I'm not cavalier about it. But I know by now when I need to give myself a little more time. What I should have done when discussing the deadline was admit to myself that I would have to follow my usual process -- panic, scribble, re-read, type and revise.I should have accepted the offer of the later deadline rather than assuming I could do this piece more efficiently because I knew what I was writing about. Process always wins.

How do you handle deadlines? What's your process?