I do most of my writing early in the day. Generally between 3:30 and 4:30 a.m. This isn’t really a matter of choice; I commute, therefore I am. I take what little time I have to write.
Not that I’m complaining. My advice to my writing friends is always the same: find a time and try to stick with it. It takes the brain a while to settle into writing mode, of course, and an hour is never long enough. There’s a hidden danger here, too.
Since I spend my waking hours wishing I was asleep, I tend to allow myself a little latitude on weekends. Maybe I’ll sleep until 4:00 or 5:00. But that extra hour’s snooze has its cost. I wake up and my usual writing time’s gone.
Sure, I can still write. I don’t have to be to work, but like most commuters I find weekends incredibly busy. It’s the only time I have to get things done. In other words, waking up later means there’s less time to write before everyday concerns start to demand attention.
I know writers who regularly ply their trade at night. After work. Winding down time. That seems wise to me, but it doesn’t work in my case. Other people are awake. Other people are in the room. I can’t find the entrance to that secret world which is my writing.
I’ve been a morning person ever since getting over the lethargic teenage years of sleeping until noon. I remember waking up at mid-day and suddenly realizing, “I’m sleeping my life away.” Shortly after that I was waking up before my habitually sleep-deprived step-father.
In grad school I started getting up at 5:00. That didn’t outlast my school years, but once I took a full-time teaching job I started it again. I got up at 5:00 to write. Five is manageable. 4:00 is possible. 3:00 is masochistic.
Chalk it up to anxiety about the time change, but early morning writing has its dangers. Everything worth doing does, I suppose.
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