It’s a grey, damp Sunday afternoon here on the North Coast and I’m wrestling with the temptation to scroll Netflix for a cheesy flick instead of writing to you. It’s not that I don’t want to write this. Truth be told, I’ve been itching to get back to writing The Museletter for ages now. But it’s also the case, with the things we most want to do, that we tend to shrink back from them when we finally get the chance to do them. That’s definitely what’s happening here.
I was supposed to go swimming with my husband and daughter this afternoon but some last-minute time pressures (ok, and a somewhat terse exchange of words…) mean I am sitting here on the sofa with at least an hour to kill – practically unheard of. At first my heart leapt with glee at the realisation that I have an unexpected window of solace in which to write what I am determined will be a regular monthly newsletter this year.
And then my heart sank. Because now I have to find something of note to say and overcome the fear that no-one wants to read this anyway because it’s surely the most erratic newsletter in the history of newsletters. In fact I only got this far in writing this before I hopped onto Facebook and then bought some pyjamas in the Next sale. Sigh.
I’m no psychologist so I won’t attempt to explain this putting-off-the-thing-we-really-want-to-do-even-when-we-get-the-chance-to-actually-do-it phenomenon. But it struck me that this very thing is the topic I should share with you today. Because I know it plagues writers in all sorts of ways. It’s more than procrastination. I procrastinate when it comes to putting the laundry away or cleaning the kitchen because I don’t really want to do those things. I’d love someone to swoop in and offer to do them for me.
It’s different when you find yourself putting off something you really want to do. For starters, that scenario is ten times more frustrating than your common-or-garden procrastination because you really feel the pain of wasted time when you’ve missed a chance to do something you want to do. It doesn’t matter if I don’t put the laundry away right now and I can always clean the kitchen tomorrow if I don’t get round to it tonight. But if I don’t write this Newsletter now, I won’t realistically get another chance until next weekend. And by then I’ll have a whole new pile of anxieties to put me off - it’s too late in the month to send a January newsletter now and my inability to have done this sooner is proof of the fact that this is a project I should just give up on.
All of that to say that I am determined to win this particular battle and bring you this Newsletter today by hook or by crook. I’m pushing through the urge to shut the laptop because I know how brilliant I’ll feel when I’ve nailed this first draft. Not only will I feel like a weight has been lifted but I’ll get the joy of actually crossing something off my to do list. And, best of all, I will unleash the whoosh of satisfaction and the accompanying rush of new momentum that only comes when you break through the gremlins of distraction and actually do the damn thing you really want to do.
And the reason I think this is worth sharing, as I’ve said, is because every single writer I’ve ever met is also plagued by these particular gremlins. It’s not just me. I bet you know exactly what I’m talking about. That pitch you really want to craft but never seem to get round to putting on paper. The book proposal you’ve been ‘working on’ (read ‘putting off’) for years. The invitation to send more ideas that you’ve been meaning to reply to. The damned newsletter you’ve never sent consistently but which is burning a hole in your brain. Ahem.
Aside from the things that hound most of us, like imposter syndrome (I’m not a real writer… that publication would never commission me…) and the crippling fear of rejection, the gremlins of distraction are arguably the nastiest of all the writerly afflictions. They have the power to crush your confidence and hold your career back - a deadly combo.
But I think I might just have stumbled upon the ultimate solution to ridding yourself of the gremlins of distraction forever. It’s a three-pronged attack and you’ll be glad to know that you don’t have to exchange terse words with a loved one each time. It’s easier than that. So without further ado, here are my three top tips for overcoming the gremlins of distraction that hold so many writers back:
Set a deadline
It’s obvious, this one. Most writers I know end up needing a deadline in order to do anything. Hazard of the job. But what I really mean is set yourself a cast-iron deadline that you actually can’t back out of without easily. Tell someone, who will hold you to account and not just let you off the hook in a kindly fashion, what you’re going to do and by when, and then ask them to bring painful consequences to bear if you fail. I did this inadvertently today whenI threw a tantrum andchose not to go swimming. I felt bad about bailing on the family arrangements and concluded that I needed to absolve myself by having Something To Show for the time I had unexpectedly stolen from the fam. I wanted to be able to say ‘I finally wrote The Museletter!’ to my husband (who knows what a bugbear this is to me) when he inevitably asked how mytantrumcareful reprioritisation went and whether I’d done anything productive. I wanted to let my daughter see that the time I had given up with her had been put to good use and not squandered on Netflix.Be honest about why you’re putting it off
I realised, while writing this, that the gremlins of distraction particularly target me when I try to write The Museletter rather than when I’m working on a feature, for example, because there’s so much more at stake with this compared to other writing projects. I put it off because I have such high hopes for it. And that means I can’t fail if I don’t try. If I always claim I don’t have time to write this, then I’ll never have to face the fact that I’m not making time for it. If I tell myself my plans for this newsletter have been thwarted then I don’t have to consider the possibility that I’m just not capable of creating what I dream of delivering. That’s potentially the subject of a whole other Museletter but the point is that it can be very powerful to honestly assess what the project that you’re putting off really means to you. In facing what you’re afraid of about this project and what you actually dream for it, you’re likely to find a spark of energy and inspiration which will be just enough to power you over the start line and one step closer to the finish.Create the environment for success
One of my teenagers just walked into the room where I’m writing this and asked me to show him how to turn the heating on. Then the other one wandered in with some shopping requests before inadvertently throwing a box of Coco Pops all over the carpet. He got the hoover out, to his credit, whereupon my husband phoned from the car (on the driveway, freshly returned from swimming without me) to tell me that something was clearly wrong with our son as he’d just seen him hoovering the lounge. Cue the official return of the swimmers, and all of a sudden the football was blaring on the telly in the room in which I have been having this writing reverie and my daughter was simultaneously singing about how happy she was to have found a favourite lunchbox snack in the shop. I promptly removed myself to the office where I am determinedly finishing this to the faint hum of football chants and a brewing argument about where we keep the bin liners.
My point? It’s no bloody wonder I struggle to write this thing. I am blessed with a noisy, high-energy family and a lively household which I adore, but these are not my preferred conditions for eking out a quiet, creative moment. If I’m already battling the gremlins of distraction, it’s probably essential that I take myself off somewhere peaceful in order to wrestle them into submission and achieve the thing I’m putting off. (Or to stage a domestic so that half the household goes swimming without me and then instruct the teens to hold their requests and cereal antics until I emerge victorious.)
Finally, in a serendipitous twist that I did not see coming, I’ve just read this aloud to my husband and daughter. They laughed in all the right places (a little too uproariously in some…) and my daughter expressed delight at being mentioned in dispatches. She then told me how much she loves it when I write ‘this kind of stuff’ and that I should definitely do much more of it.
And that, dear reader, is what we call a very happy ending indeed.
Want more Museflashery in your life? Get it here…
We all need to make money – more so than ever in a cost of living crisis – and the purpose of Muse Flash will always be to help you do that. We’re established freelance writers and the main breadwinners in our households, and our careers have kept our respective families fed for more than 16 years now. Our passion will always be empowering other people to build sustainable freelance writing careers that they love.
MuseFlash: The Reboot
If any of that resonates and you feel like delving a little deeper into what Muse Flash is all about, we’re delighted to say that we’re running a three-day online version of our pitching course next month. Part pitching course, part group coaching session and part virtual knees-up, MuseFlash: The Reboot will help you overcome the gremlins of distraction and reinvigorate your writing mojo. Tickets (£250) are on sale now and you can pay in three instalments of just £83 if you prefer. Come!
Poetry with Kate Fox
The best £15 you’ll spend all year and arguably one of the best hours of your life. Press pause on life and join us and the brilliant poet, broadcaster and comic Kate Fox, via Zoom, for our next poetry workshop. It doesn’t matter if you’ve never written a line of poetry in your life and we won’t make you read anything you write aloud, although we bet you’ll totally want to. Kate will somehow bring forth wordy wondrousness from you and you’ll wonder if perhaps you should give up the day job and just become a best-selling poet. Come!
A piece of writerly advice we valued…
An oldie but a goodie - this Guardian piece featuring top tips from famous writers is a great start to the new year. We particularly like F. Scott Fitzgerald’s pearl of wisdom.A piece we loved writing…
You’ll have to buy the mag or subscribe to Readly to read it but I (Heidi) wrote the Dossier ‘Find your happy in 2023’ for the current issue of Psychologies and the tips shared by the experts I interviewed are fabulous.A piece we loved reading…
It’s a book rather than an article but we devoured Julia Cameron’s new book Write for Life in a single sitting. Highly recommend.A podcast we enjoyed…
Brene Brown’s podcast is currently on pause but these two final episodes where she talks about people doing their best had me in floods of cathartic tears in my kitchen on a Saturday night. Brilliance.Muse Flashers we’re especially proud of…
In the ultimate act of defeating the gremlins of distraction, our brilliant pal and Museflasher Katy Georgiou only went and wrote a book about how to deal with stress!
Do email us (museflashtraining@gmail.com) with any questions or comments – we love hearing from you.
Heidi Scrimgeour & Hazel Davis
MuseFlash
www.museflash.academy