priorities. . .

[bronze_ribbons]

From an exchange in the comments section over at Jason Lundberg's:

Luna: 'Jay Lake is insane. I've thought that about him ever since I saw the incredible amount of output that guy does. Never met him, mind you, but still. When he assured you that "anyone can do it", did he add anything? Like, "anyone can do it if they just don't sleep" or "anyone can do it with a wetware memory upgrade", etc? :D Whatever that guy has, I'd like some of that. Whee. I'd have a novel done by next week.'

J. Erik Lundberg: 'His biggest thing is writing a story every week, regardless of length. Some are flash fiction, some are novellas, but he finishes one every single week. Admittedly, he doesn't do much else. He doesn't watch hardly any tv, doesn't play video games, doesn't go to bars, &c. His priorities are his daughter and his writing, and it's because he has this level of focus that he can write a story every week.'

Jason also writes about perhaps taking time away from the submissions game, the better to focus on his doctoral work. As I noted (in his comments section), I've contemplated a similar move now and then -- and then am invariably distracted by some shiny, flutterbuttery cat-toy of a theme or exercise. Not that I'm complaining -- eleven poems in the "forthcoming" column isn't a shabby figure. But it does have me wondering what if, instead of habitually relying on stretches of manic insomnia and sheer pigheadedness to get things done, I were to set aside two nights every week for an entire year -- say, Tuesdays and Fridays -- one for preparing submissions and tackling filing, etc., and the other for flat-out pedal-to-the-metal writing? (Or, rather than two specific days, just make a point of two days each week being mine, all mine, one explicitly devoted to non-deadline writing and the other to market-specific work?)

Of course, instead of dithering here, I could be writing. Or reading. Right. The bathtub beckoneth.

Comments

[fairmer.livejournal.com]

I think setting aside two specific days is a fine idea. Giving a whole night over to submission prep seems excessive, but you and I may have very different processes. I prep during my breaks (both coffee and lunch) at work, and I don't sweat it if I don't get everything out in one day. I have so much downtime between responses, anyway, that stretching out three subs to five days sometimes feels nice. Your mileage may undoubtedly vary.

That said, if I end up driving my mom's cat to Colorado over the last two weeks in November... we'd be taking 40 all the way from Durham to Albuquerque, and Nashville is looking like a logical first-night stopping place. Dinner? If possible? With me and my mom? :)

[mechaieh.livejournal.com]

Dinner would be cool. Need a place to stay?

"Submission prep" is a whole-night process for me, but that's because it's shorthand for some combination of
(1) researching markets
(2) studying their samples
(3) deciding which poems go where
(4) fending pets off laps
(5) fishing hair of said pets out of the laserwriter
(6) tweaking a line here and a cadence there
(7) getting frustrated and starting a new poem because everything that's left in my not-yet-circulating folder seems so shallow or bland or incomplete
(8) reading
(9) tromping up and down the stairs because none of this stuff is all in one place. . .
(10). . .including the one poem I wrote three years ago that would be just perfect to finish out the packet. . ..
(11) . . .except that, now that I read it, that fourth line clunks like a cement hacky-sack. Fuck.
(12) Now the line's good. . .but the rest of the poem is out of whack. Dammit!
(13) Surf journals of other writers. Feed off mutual frustration/ambition/groove/dementia.
(14) Maybe I'll just write qrssama (or other willing victim) instead.
(15) Put pretty stamp on envelope to qrssama (or other willing victim). Oh, yeah, that's why I do this writing thing -- it's an excuse to send myself envelopes with pretty stamps, because 85% of you are lame and do not write letters at all, and 95% of you who bother (bless you!) don't have the time to go buy interesting stamps instead of boring ones.
(16) Well, as long as I'm addressing that letter and stamping it I might as well put this market to bed.
(17) Speaking of bed -- oh, look, it's 1 a.m. But I really want a bath now.
(18) Oooh, that's a nice line. Must -- hm, I could go somewhere with that. Is that pen still in the bottom drawer next to the tub? (Ripping out table of contents page to write on since it has the most whitespace.)
(19) One more line and I'll go to bed. The right word is on the tip of my. . .

;-)

[fairmer.livejournal.com]

This should be it's own entry. :) Funny stuff.

Considering that Mom and said cat will be along on said cross-country road-trip, I can't even imagine imposing us on you all. But dinner would be awesome. Now, to just pin Mom down on this whole epic adventure. She's still not sure... (sigh)