Skip to main content

Conflicting Demands

I have a problem with writing.  Actually, I have a problem with sleeping that leads to a problem with writing.

I’m a morning person.  My circadian rhythms are chirping away at about 3 a.m.  I’m usually up and writing by 3:30 because I commute and I don’t live too close to the city.  This has become my habit.  I’m sleepy most of the time so I try to “sleep in” on weekends.  I’m up before 5 anyway.

The problem is when I sleep in my mind is less sharp.  I get out of bed less tired, but less inspired.  I spend so much of the rest of the week weary that I look forward to that couple extra hours of slumber only to discover that the days I don’t have to commute I can’t write well.  What to do?

I know that writers, historically, have kept idiosyncratic hours.  Staying up nights drinking, and such.  In today’s culture of running in place just to pay the rent, that’s not really an option.  Other people at work wonder why I don’t stay late.  Getting your work done is never enough.

My boss, I suspect, thinks my work is my life.  It’s only my work life.  All writers have to find a way to keep alive.  Increasingly, though, the job demands more because the industry’s under stress and somehow it’s my damn fault.



I work long hours, in addition to the commute.  I once added them up and was surprised by my sum.  No wonder I’m tired all the time.  Add in the hours on the bus and I have only time for sleep left.  To sleep, perchance to dream.


Should I sleep in at all?  Maybe when the weekend rolls around I should get out of bed at 3:30.  Isn’t that what Edna St. Vincent Millay called burning the candle at both ends?  I’m not complaining, I’m just tired.  I guess I’m a writer.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Maybe Okay

  A couple pieces of encouraging news, perhaps, dear struggling writers.   I had a couple short stories accepted for publication in recent weeks.   As a fellow writer recently said, “You've got to keep trying.  Somebody will like what you wrote.” That’s a bit of sunshine.   And it’s likely true.   But the stories:   “The Crossing,” about two men in a boat trying to cross the Atlantic, was accepted by JayHenge Publishing.   JayHenge is a small, but paying publisher.   I was flattered when they wanted it for their Masque & Maelström: The Reluctant Exhumation of Edgar Allan Poe anthology.   Being associated with Poe in any way feels good. The second story, “St. Spiders’ Day,” had been brewing in my mind for years—yes, this is a long game!   A friend pointed me to The Creepy podcast.   Since the story hadn’t been written, I followed their guidelines of what they wanted.   It worked. I recently heard a successful wri...

Working Through It

  The thing about being a working writer is you don’t have time.   Between working nine-to-five and trying to eat and sleep, and write, of course, the week is shot.   Weekends are spent doing the errands that you can’t do during the week. I should probably have known better than to join a local writers’ group.   Their meetings, although only once a month, are all-day affairs on a Saturday.   I generally don’t have all day Saturday to spare.   I work all week and I need groceries and the occasional Target run.   And I haven’t yet learned to go a week without eating. This is actually the third writers’ group I’ve joined.   One was not too far from home, but not terribly helpful.   They met on Saturdays, but in the morning only.   Nobody seemed interested in what I was writing, so I stopped going. The second one was about an hour away.   They also met on Saturdays.   Their big thing was having lunch together after the meeting. ...

Creative Righting

  Rejection of my writing is a rejection of my imaginative world.   That’s why I was cheered by the acceptance of one of my stories this week.   That makes number 31. I’ve been working on a lot of fiction lately, even as nonfiction book number 6 is going to press.   The ideas are still there, and bizarre as ever, but publishing venues just aren’t welcoming. The other day I had lunch with a professor whose wife is also a professor.   She just had her first novel published, and so he pointed me to her indie publisher.   I went to their website to learn that they’re closed to submissions.   I have to admit that my latest accepted story, “Creative Writing Club,” was probably given the green light because I know the editor.   That seems like a pretty dicey way to get any notice, doesn’t it?   You have to know the right people even in the low circulation world. My fiction is difficult to classify.   It’s got speculative elements to it.   ...