I had suspected, but not fully realised, the awful pressure that comes from deciding to write full time. True I'm on holiday and exhausted from work with numerous little errands to catch up on and the desire to actually get out and enjoy myself. However, having said I would spend this week writing, I have got less writing done than any other week so far (including, I think, when I was sick). And the worst thing is, it's not just the distractions.
Tuesday I slept in, so decided I would spend my day doing all the little things I needed to (for example, the thrilling task of going to VicRoads and trying to get my license unsurrended and my car registered) and then I would spend the evening writing. As I spend most evenings writing, and go reasonably well at it until I run out of time before needing to go to bed, I thought it should work very well.
I ended up also going for a look around Chadstone (largest shopping centre in the southern hemisphere, for those of you not from Melbourne), and seeing Total Recall (everyone warned me, but I didn't listen, to my folly. It was as bad as you have heard, and if you haven't heard: it's bad. Though I still think Kate Beckinsdale did a great job). I then went to the gym, and found myself stupidly upset over silly things (largely that I didn't look like Kate Beckinsdale, and I wasn't getting to go away for my holiday). Got home and just couldn't bring myself to face writing. I did my prayers and Bible readings, still couldn't face it. Ended up going to bed at 6.30pm, curled in a little ball afraid of my laptop. So then bargained with myself I could go to sleep then, but wake up around 11pm and spend some time writing then.
Woke up at 11pm and went back to sleep.
So then told my unconscious self I would get up at 5am and try writing there. Woke up at 5am after a nightmare that probably wouldn't sound all that scary, but left me with that feeling someone was constantly looking over my shoulder in the not good way. Had some breakfast to try and steel myself, and sat down and wrote for an hour. Then went back to bed and woke up at 10am (yeah, don't add up how many hours I slept... and still felt tired. Yes, have considered all the medical possibilities and had blood tests etc., but nothing). Did another hour of writing, but that was it for the day. I did actually stop because I needed to know more about stained glass window making, so then spent a few hours reading up on that as well as who was the English Ambassador to Portugal in 1810, (it wasn't called Ambassador at the time, and it switched over that year, and I don't know exactly when they switched, which is a bit annoying) what did the Cathedral look like (thanks Ben!) and random other facts like that.
Today doesn't count, because I've come up to my parents' house to help direct the removalists and unpack for my aunt and my grandmother who are both moving from Sydney to Woodend (my grandmother to live with my parents, and my aunt to live nearby). On the drive up to my parents' with my little sister, we did discuss my current story where it was up to and what could be the big bad plot my guy uncovers (this had been worrying me, big bad plots that haven't been done already are hard to come up with). So I did manage to spend some time today writing out where I wanted the story to go, and adding in some of the research I had done the other day.
So, what I need to find out is how to create a lifestyle of writing, where the pressure of the open day doesn't destroy my soul. Sadly, as much as I complain about it, and it does leave me almost no other spare time, my current method of just writing in rushed blocks between work actually seems to be quite effective. So how to harness that, but allow for more free time?
I will investigate and get back to you.