By Kat Savino
If there were such a thing as Procrastinators Anonymous, surely the emblem of the organization would be a melting Salvador Dali clock. I’m here to confess that I am a recovering procrastinator, and, while I’m better than I used to be, I still end up falling off the wagon from time to time. I have melted many an hour away, not writing and then feeling bad about not writing.
I also tend to throw myself into really long projects, and part of the reason I procrastinate is because my project just feels like an unmanageable pile of endless work. If the end is so far off, what’s another two hours of Netflix? However, I think that many kinds of projects, even short ones, can feel overwhelming when thought of as one giant lump of work. A student made a Freudian slip the other day: when I asked her how long her paper was supposed to be, she said 1700 pages. She had meant, of course, it was 1700 words. But that project felt like 1700 pages to her. I so understood that.
I started to think about how I could break my project into smaller tasks that felt easier to manage, which is something I help other writers do all the time. I started realizing that I could easily trick myself into doing more work by setting very small (i.e. almost absurdly easy) goals, that the real issue was just sitting down and getting into the headspace to write, but once I was there, I was there. I also worked to find ways to make myself accountable: I asked my most tough-love friend to keep on my case about it; I made writing center appointments for myself, and set reminders on my phone; I also just wasn’t allowed to watch television until I at least opened the document and did some writing, no matter how messy it was. I also forgave myself if I fell off the wagon. I channeled my energy into moving forward instead of feeling guilty.
So something changed: as I accomplished these smaller tasks, I started noticing how rewarding it felt to meet these micro-deadlines. I made lists, even if they were only mental ones about the small things I had to do next (just read this part of this text and take notes; re-read this scene and revise it). Somehow I started making the connection that finishing smaller tasks actually got me closer to finishing. Also, when I broke down my novel into smaller tasks, it stopped feeling like a giant lump of work.
The other day I sat at my computer, a bit stunned. I had finished a complete draft of the novel that had been burning a hole in my pocket for so many years. At some point, I had stopped thinking about Finishing My Novel, and I just focused on the task I had to do that day. By looking at only the stretch of road ahead of me, I had ended up walking miles. And then, I got to watch some TV.
Published May 21, 2015
