Time & Creativity
Joyless urgency vs shimmering possibilities
Last week I had a break from my day job in the form of a non-teaching week. About 90% through the first draft of my novel Self/Help, I planned to use the week to make GREAT STRIDES on my writing. Instead, I spent most of the week suffering from fatigue, headaches and brain fog. I was not really ill. But I wasn’t well enough to focus on my book. I felt let down by my body, which seemed to have sabotaged my plans, disappointed with myself for not being able to push through these difficult symptoms and write anyway, and exasperated by having wasted this valuable time.
Then I remembered something I read in Oliver Burkeman’s Four Thousand Weeks: Time and How to Use It:
We treat our plans as though they are a lasso thrown from the present around the future, in order to bring it under our command.
Burkeman used to be a productivity expert, until he realised relentless efficiency was making him utterly miserable. He wrote this book about his exploration into finding new ways to relate to time; the outrageous brevity and shimmering possibilities of four thousand weeks (the average length of a human life).
It is a fascinating read: spiritual, philosophical and incredibly soothing. Each time I dip into it I am reminded that slowing down is a valid choice, an act of self-care, a break for my harried nervous system. I am also reminded that the creative process cannot be hurried.
Meaningful productivity comes not from hurrying things up but from letting them take the time they take.
Apparently the Germans have a word for the time inherent to a process: eigenzeit. What a reassuring concept. It gives me permission to let go of the pressure to finish my book faster; to accept that it will take however long it takes.
Some of my books zoom along in the first draft, and drag their heels in the second; others the opposite. Some have three for four drafts, others twice as many; some have long breaks between drafts. All have been derailed for various periods by life events dramatic (marriage, a baby, a divorce) and quotidian (illness, parenting, working). In the end, all my books seem to take the same amount of time: four years. Four years is the eigenzeit of my writing process. When I remember this, I feel much calmer about this ‘wasted’ week. Perhaps I simply needed a rest in this break from my day job. Or perhaps I needed a period of incubation before I was ready to take great strides in my book.
In a world geared for hurry, the capacity to resist the urge to hurry—to allow things to take the time they take—is a way to do the work that counts, and to derive satisfaction from the doing itself, instead of deferring all your fulfillment into the future.
Re-reading this quote I am reminded of what I so often tell the aspiring and early career writers who come to my workshops: most of writing is not about publishing and all the things that you imagine go with that. It is about the process itself. If we are only writing a book to get to the end of it, what dreary hours we will spend in that task! How different it feels if we can remind ourselves that writing can be fulfilling in and of itself: a break from hustle and productivity; a time for contemplation and deep thought; engaging with our creative selves; a chance to play and experiment.
I didn’t make great strides on my week away from teaching, in fact, I didn’t make any strides at all. But after a week of allowing myself to do what my body needed (rest), this week I felt inspired and refreshed and was able to finish a scene I have been working on for two months. Was it the break which helped, the releasing of expectations and pressures? Or was two months simply the eigenzeit for that scene?
Event | To Whom It May Concern
Fundraiser for Indigenous Literacy Foundation
I am excited to be hosting my fourth night of complaint letters at the fabulous Beaufort Street Books on Friday, May 10th. To Whom It May Concern is an evening of grouchy gripes and grumbles about the issues that make our blood boil and get our knickers in a knot! Spoken word artist Sarah Callaghan, microphone mistress LadyFree and other creatives will express their dissatisfaction through poetry, song and the good old fashioned complaint letter, hosted by yours truly. Come along for a laugh, a glass of wine and to make a difference to indigenous literacy.
Can’t Get You Out of My Head | Adam Curtis
and whether humans deserve to become extinct
Over a few weeks I’ve been watching a BBC docu-series (available on YouTube) called Can’t Get You Out of My Head. The sub-title is An Emotional History of the Modern World, but I think it would be more accurate to call it an idiosyncratic history. It seems, at times, a somewhat random collation of events and perspectives, and the assertions Curtis makes don’t always seem to be backed up in a particularly solid way. Most of the time I don’t know enough about the place or period he’s discussing to confidently say that he’s misrepresenting things, but I have an uneasy feeling he’s presenting a fairly skewed perspective. If there is a through-line, it is perhaps only that humans in positions of power are, more often than not, corrupt, (or will become so), and that the overthrowing of any despotic /authoritarian regime will undoubtedly be followed by another regime which is equally problematic only in different ways. My key takeaway is that humans are greedy, rapacious, and, for the most part, idiotic. As a result I stopped watching after the fourth episode, as it was making me gloomy and dispirited. I do think it’s worth a look, and I especially enjoyed Curtis’s selection of quirky obscure footage and music.
June Events in Margaret River
I also have a talk and workshop coming up in Margaret River which I’m very much looking forward to. There is always a warm, welcoming atmosphere at my events in the south west so if you haven’t been before, do please come along and meet some fellow writers and readers.
Other things that have intrigued or entertained me lately
Season 2 of Stanley Tucci’s Searching for Italy on SBS, (aka searching for new ways to say ‘oh my god’) in which the charming and loveable Stanley gets around gorgeous locations, eating and drinking delicious things grown/prepared/cooked with love and passion: nice work if you can get it and great TV if you can’t.
Ripley on Netflix. This show is nothing short of GORGEOUS to look at: the sets and locations are stunning and it is all filmed in black and white. But it is actually a little dull to watch, mostly, I think, because the characters are so bland. I adored Andrew Scott in All of Us Strangers but he doesn’t get to reveal any of his lovely warmth here; Dakota Fanning is wholly unsympathetic as the joyless—and frankly daggy—Marge, while Johnny Flynn brings the character of Dickie Greenleaf about as much rizz as a piece of cold toast.
Scoop on Netflix: a mediocre dramatisation of the story behind Prince Andrew’s damning TV interview about his friendship with Jeffrey Epstein, which led to him being stripped of his status. The sometimes-mesmerising Gillian Anderson was utterly wooden in this—too much botox maybe, or perhaps having to put on an english accent made her stiffen up? And even in a Chanel jacket and with a posh accent, Billie Piper was still essentially Rose the chav from Doctor Who. The standout performance was Rufus Sewell as the clueless buffoon Prince Andrew, who apparently thought the interview had gone ‘rather well'. Read the room, dude.
A Visit from the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan - an old favourite which definitely stood the test of time for me.
What have you been reading, watching and listening to?
I also completely get the feeling of “wasting time” - there have been so many hours that I have planned to write and been thwarted. But I’m learning to relax into a “the story takes as long as it takes” mode. I haven’t worked on my current ms for months but I needed to back away and let the character lead me. Sounds strange, I know.
Watching Stanley Tucci, Vera, The Change, This is Going to Hurt (and Ripley is next). Reading Berlin by Bea Settin and Weathering by Ruth Allen.
I completely understand what you mean when you talked about "wasting time" when it comes to writing. At times it's hard not to feel like you're behind because all of your other writer friends seem so productive, and ironically, getting into this mindset has been the reason I've stopped with projects in the past. It's something I still struggle with quite a bit, but I'm getting better day by day. And you're right— 'eigenzeit' is comforting, in it's own way.
As for right now, I'm in the middle of reading The Spirit Bears Its Teeth by Andrew Joseph White. It's delightfully creepy and heartbreaking, and I can't wait to finish it!