Lorraine Mace

Notes from the Margin — October 2009

Text Box: The Write Schedule I have no idea who first coined the phrase about being careful what you ask for in case you get it, but I do wish I’d taken more notice. When my freelance career began reaching out in all directions, I felt like an octopus with so many tentacles I strangled myself every time I moved. One leg of my writing going east snarled another going west, tangling me in ever-decreasing circles of non-productivity. Novels, humour, short fiction, non-fiction books, features, competition entries, queries for new articles, e-books, I tried to fit them all in. This resulted in me feeling so overwhelmed by having so many projects ‘in potentia’, so to speak, that I sat at the computer and played online Sudoku rather than think about how best to cope with the work load. I went from beginner to expert in no time at all. I spent so much time deciphering number codes that I’d reached the stage of being able to finish the really difficult grids in my head. Not that I forgot for one moment that I was a writer. Oh no, I was very productive at thinking up new writing ideas to add to my already overburdened list. The scraps of paper littering my desk were proof of my non-productivity, but I managed to convince myself they were evidence of an ever-fertile mind. And it was at this point that I wished out loud that someone would organise my writing life, so that I could sit down in the mornings with a clear idea of what I should be writing. I feel I must add a word of warning to all those who may one day want to express a similar wish – make sure there is no one around to hear you! My fairy godmother (note I don’t say good or bad, the jury is still out on that one) heard my plea. More to the point, so did my husband. “I could organize a work program for you,” he offered, innocence personified and no sign of the slave-driving fiend lurking within. I almost wept with relief. Procrastination would become a thing of the past; I’d work to a plan. No more trying to decide which tentacle took precedence. I would be able to stride forward confidently, one leg at a time. The first inkling that things were not going to be quite so straightforward (and also that divorce is not always a bad thing) came when Derek brought forth pad and pen to make a list of all my outstanding projects. I hadn’t realized until I started itemizing them that I had so many, some already commissioned, but even more still at the proposal stage. As the list grew, so did his disbelief. “How did you think you could cover all this ground?” he asked in an amused tone of voice I can only call patronizing. Fair enough, the list did cover several pages, but he didn’t seem to realize that good ideas don’t hang around waiting for the right moment, or even for the write moment. When inspiration strikes, it doesn’t ask for permission, it just takes up residence in a writer’s brain and demands: Write me! Once we’d got the list under control I’d assumed my new manager would toddle off, make a few notes and then come back with my work schedule. No such luck. He asked me all sorts of stupid questions and actually expected me to know the answers. “How many hours do you need to finish Inside Out? How long does it take you to write your column each month? How many feature queries do you send out each week? If you get an idea accepted, how many hours do you need to write it? How long do you need for your co-authored book? How much time for the moving abroad book?” Um, excuse me, if I knew the answers to those questions, would I need someone to organize me? Er, no, I rather think I wouldn’t! I protested that I simply didn’t know. The ogre demanded I give his questions due consideration. I duly considered separate houses. Then he got really technical and split the days into blocks. Would I, could I, do this, that and/or the other in a day, a morning, a week, a month? This was all too much for me. Just the thought of so much work made me want to hide under my desk until he went away. But he was relentless. Under pressure, I answered I know not what, however two days later wonderful pieces of paper were ready for pinning to the wall. Mondays to Fridays (with Wednesday afternoons off) marked out neatly in morning and afternoon sessions told me exactly what I should be doing. He’d even worked out when my books would be completed. Thanks to his work plan, I entered competitions, queried for features and had them accepted, picked up more commissions from the same editors as a result and even finished another children’s novel. So how am I doing now? Each month Derek gives me a new worksheet, carefully taking into account every item I’ve asked him to incorporate and I follow the plan – I do, honest I do, really. Well, sort of. I try to anyway. In fact, my only real problem now is hiding the Sudoku screen when Derek comes in to see how I’m getting on. Write Away! Notes from the Margin


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