The Deceptive Art of Balance
By Barbara O'Neal | September 23, 2009 |
As I write this, it is just past ten pm. I’ve left my partner to go to sleep on his own, since this column must be posted before morning, and I haven’t had a chance to get to it. It’s just been one of those days…at the end of one of those weeks…at the end of one of those seasons. For months now, I’ve been saying, “When I finish _____, then I’ll have a little down time.” The weeks come in, the weeks go out, and that down time has been absent. I suspect, at this point, that it’s not coming.
Which means I have to make peace with life as it is.
Often, people who are not writers express the most envy over my hours, the fact that I work for myself, and thus don’t have to punch a clock or report to anyone, or (especially if the person is a woman who has been required to wear pantyhose), get dressed to do my work. In Colorado Springs, where I live, it also snows a lot in the winter, and the fact that my commute involves walking down the hallway in my slippers elicits a great deal of envy, too.
All those things are terrific, don’t get me wrong. But you see the clock. You see that I am working. And I have been working 60 and 70 hours a week every week for most of this year. I often work weekends and late at night, when there are fewer distractions.
Balance is the single most difficult part of a writing career, at least for me. This week, I’m engaged in contract negotiations, which always feels like bargaining in a Morrocan market—you need to know the language and how to play, and how to play tough. It makes me jumpy. Also, my mother has a vacation week and I feel like I never spend enough time with her, so I should carve out an afternoon. The book project on my desk needs daily tending, of course, and I have had blogs to write, and a column elsewhere I need to think about. My dogs want to be walked every morning, and I really need some vigorous exercise at least three times a week, and probably four if I’m not going to be as grouchy as the creature from the black lagoon. Since the exercise sometimes leads to injury, I often need physical therapy or yoga or massage to put things right. There are promotional things to be addressed—websites and social media and mailings and appearances (which sound glamorous, and probably are if you are super-famous, which I, unfortunately, am not). I also have a spiritual group that gives me sustenance I thus seems as if it should get some of my time in return.
Oh, and I haven’t mentioned my partner, who does get neglected when everything piles up and we go out to dinner or eat out of the freezer five times a week.
But some weeks, you just can’t do everything. I can’t do it all this week. Just can’t make it happen. The truth is, this “cushy” job takes a lot of time, and for me, a lot of uninterrupted time. I tend to discount some of those hours because the actual writing time is sometimes small—an hour or two of focused writing every day.
What I need to do, every day during a hard writing period, is wake up to plenty of time alone, in my own head, with whatever tools might help me that day. The act of actually putting words on the page is only the barest tip of the pencil. I noodle around, letting characters emerge and present themselves. I draw charts—plot arcs, character arcs, timelines. Often, I make menus, and then cook things from those menus to see if they will actually taste good. There are piles and piles and piles of research material to sort through, every time, all of it different from the book before. None of that counts as strictly “writing a book”, but it all goes to the end result.
Knowing that is my responsibility. It’s my job to erect the walls that my work requires, to erase all the expectations of others and put the work first. Every day, day in, day out. Of course family counts, and of course we must make room for friendship and social time and spiritual pursuits, but the truth is, this is a job that takes pretty much everything you’ve got. We all know this.
What often makes me feel guilty is not that I love my work, and love it so madly I don’t mind that it takes 70 hours a week to do it properly, but that I do love it so much more than other things. I struggle with balance because there are very, very few things in life that satisfy me as much as writing. In addition, much of what I do that looks like balance is just a way to do my job better.
Tonight, I poured out my struggles to my ever-patient partner—how do I do it all? I asked. He said simply, “You don’t.”
I asked, “How do you choose? There are all these people who need my attention.”
He said, “Don’t forget the most important one.”
I honestly had no idea who he meant. Himself?
“You,” he said, and touched my nose.
Ah. Me. I’m the one who loves my work madly. Madly. It’s fun and challenging and interesting every single day. I love learning new facts and new ideas and ways to make the writing better. I love creating new worlds and developing characters and exploring ideas. I love everything about it—the work, the back-work, the business, the readers, the circle. I love it. I am, in an old-fashioned sense, devoted.
I’m not balanced! Huh. My life is strongly tilted toward books. I adore them. I love thinking about them and talking about them and reading about them. I love writing. And given that, I’m taking a vow to stop feeling guilty about it.
I hope you will join me. Let’s immerse in our shared passion. Write like it will make you drunk. Write as if you will save the world. Write as if it will save someone’s life. Write to make yourself laugh—and everyone along with you. There are two caveats: your children will grow faster than you can even imagine, so spend plenty of time with them. And make time for your partner. Other than that, do what will support your writing. It will reward you, I promise.
What are your stumbling blocks? What makes you feel selfish or neglectful? How can you let all that go and write to set somebody free or make them laugh or save the world?
Barbara O’Neal is the author of more than a dozen award-winning, bestselling novels, including the runaway bestseller, When We Believed in Mermaids, which has been published in more than 20 countries and spent many months on the Amazon Charts, as well as the Wall Street Journal, USA Today, and Washington Post bestseller lists. Barbara lives on the beach in rugged Oregon with her husband, a British endurance athlete who vows he’ll never lose his accent and their zoo of cats and dogs. You can find more information on her newsletter and where to find her on social media at barbaraoneal.com.
That was perfect. I’m off to do your last paragraph (before the bolded questions) justice. Thanks!
Beautiful post! I also work from home as a distance-learning teacher, although I don’t write full time. When I worked outside the home, my day had a distinct start and end, and I never felt guilty about not doing enough work on a particular day– even if a sizeable portion of that day was spent decompressing around the water cooler or browsing the web at my desk. I sometimes feel selfish and neglectful in this job when I don’t spend every minute of 9-5 working, because if I’m not working I don’t feel like I’m at “work.” Then I remind myself that my husband isn’t spending every moment working at his outside-the-home job. My break activities feed into my work, too– I’m a better teacher when I’m learning, too.
I still struggle to find the right balance in my writing. I know I should get to writing first thing, but I always feel pulled to do my “real” work first… and my real work has a tendency to grow into the time allotted to it. This post is inspiring me, though! Thanks!
Excellent post. We do love the rest of our life, but sometimes it feels like a push/pull between that and our writing. I’m working, lately, to keep my gaze on the DAY I’m in and do what I can for that day. Not to worry (quite as much) about what’s coming down the line.
Good luck! :)
Barbara, You’ve written my heart. I’m retired now, and everyone thinks that since I left the rat race of medical practice I have so much time on my hands. Writing? Hey, anyone can do that, they think. But there’s writing, marketing, adjunctive stuff, and occasionally a thing called “life.” Thanks for sharing your frustrations. They’re mine, as well. And misery loves company.
This is such a true post! The hardest part for me is this : “It’s my job to erect the walls that my work requires, to erase all the expectations of others and put the work first.”
It’s just so much easier to put others first and so hard to take “me-time”, which in my life equates to writing time because, like you, I’m happiest when I’m involved in some part of writing – researching, writing, editing or just plain dreaming up ideas.
The bad news is it’s easier said than done to put oneself and one’s writing first. The good news is: I’m getting better at doing it and consequently more serious about myself and my writing.
Barbara – This is a lovely post! Now I must rush off to fit life in before the writing starts for the day, so I don’t have time to say much more. ;-)
Again and again, Barbara, you get to the heart of a writer’s life. Thank you for this post (I’m *really* struggling with balance right now) and, also, for your end-of-August post on dealing with pre-publication anxiety. I think I’ve forwarded that link to every writer I know. This one will be next :).
Wow, did this speak to me. I’ve been off-balance for a while now. Thanks for the reminder that writing is a privilege and that living a rich life is also a privilege. Making both happen at the same time is tricky but it can be done.
WOW great post. Seriously. I have been thinking a lot about balance — finding it, creating it, doing a little dance in hopes that it will come to me — and this was just what I needed to read. Thanks. :)
Write like it will make you drunk. Write as if you will save the world. Write as if it will save someone’s life. Write to make yourself laugh—and everyone along with you. There are two caveats: your children will grow faster than you can even imagine, so spend plenty of time with them. And make time for your partner.
Yes, yes, yes! Thank you for the reminder that we need to protect our passions.
My problem is finding the block of time to do the work…instead of all the other things that seem more important but really aren’t.
Ah, I see I’m not the only one with this issue. Thanks for the feedback.
Richard-ha ha on misery loving company!
Ann, that’s my trouble, too–thanks for pulling that quote. I’m even having trouble today after writing that post last night!
Kathleen, it’s true. It can be done.
You just expressed the number one reason why I seem to think I can’t write at the moment. I am a full time IUSB student and do cashier work around 20 hours a week, along with my hectic family (mother, sister, a dog, and a cat). I have all these ideas in my head but they have nowhere to go. Sometimes, though, I wonder if I use these outside distractions as excuses to really get my words on paper (or computer screen). In Chemistry class today a fellow student informed me that she was taking 20 credits, worked, and is in a club. If she could do all that, surely I could find time for a mere page of writing at least a day.
As for you, uninterrupted time is important but so is interacting with others. People create ideas. We need other people’s opinions to shape our own, we need to get out and experience things to enrich our descriptions and feelings on the page. So really, others help write our stories with us. Maybe balance can’t be attained, but your relationships can be tools for writing as well- don’t neglect them.
Thanks for the opportunity to do some recreational copy.
Balance is something I have striving to maintain my entire life. I seem to have been gifted/cursed with passion.
It is practically impossible for me to be moderately enthusiastic about anything, especially writing.
Or my children, or my partner, or my spiritual adviser, or much of anything.
Instead, I have chosen to celebrate my passions without apology. Not everyone may agree, but I try not to leave anyone neutral about their opinions. I am convinced that at least 80% of everything I know I have learned through writing or talking about writing. If I can share anything with my offspring through the written word I hope that they can somehow convey my love of the craft to the next generation. One of my older spiritual advisers chided me regularly about not trusting my own instincts about what made me happy. I think I am finally getting a clue.
I am glad to see that you are as well.
Your post has me thinking hard about what my life will be like when I get home from Iraq. Right now, I’m over here, where there’s nothing to do but write and go to work (which isn’t nearly as exciting as Army life is made to look on the commercials). But when I get home, I’ve got mommy duty, the commute to work, dinner, homework, laundry…etc.
The closer I get to publication, the more I worry about all the responsibilities that come with it. My husband was irritated last year before we left for Iraq about how much time I spent writing when I should have spent it with my kids (to be honest, I wrote as much as I could after they went to bed, so i’m really thinking this wasn’t about me but…)
Bottomw line, he was right. I’m very much into my books and the worlds I create in them. I enjoy it. It’s fulfilling. But I’m also a mom, a wife, a soldier, an officer and all those other things that working women deal with.
I’ll find the time, because this is something that I simply have to do if I want to succeed in publishing.
That doesn’t mean the task is any less daunting.
Thank you, Barbara. This is just what I needed right now. I’m almost at the end of the fourth week of five weeks of craziness in my day job necessitating 10-hour days and have been feeling guilty that by the time I leave work, go to the gym, and then come home to collapse, there’s no energy to walk the dogs or cook dinner, let alone spend a couple of hours writing before I fall – unconscious – into bed. I need to remember that I can’t do it all. And maybe – for the sake of my sanity – until the end of week five, my writing simply has to take a back seat to the day job.
Thank you for putting into words what my heart has been saying. I was trying to explain to a book club last night how I manage to read and write and blog and conference, while raising three boys, and all I could come up with is that I have to. You have articulated it beautifully, and you have validated writers’ feelings everywhere.
Great post.
It also takes time to think about your story. Sometimes it’s just a luxury to get lost in world building and unencrypting character’s motivations.
Jessica, I got sucked into your blog completely. Thanks. I’m living in a military town from which a lot of soldiers are deployed and I keep a mental running log of all the comments I hear around tonw. At the hairdresser this week, the girl next to me was married to a just-returned soldier, and her parents were taking the kids for a week so the soldier and wife could go have fun and get used to each other again.
Kylie, your paragraph made me feel tired! Yes, give yourself some time to finish the big stretch and get back to writing when you can.
My pleasure, Erika.
Ooh, Thea, I love that…the luxury of world building. Yes.
Thank you!
Love the final para, beautiful and true, though for me, life feeds my writing.
It seems on busier days, I get more things done… including writing, but if my life were just writing, I don’t think I could do it. I wouldn’t be able to write without time to myself, reading, TV, dogs, husband, friends, online time, sewing, etc…have to have all of that, or the writing sort of dies on the vine. My well needs refilling… a lot. LOL
The first thing I can remember my first editor saying to me after I sold my first book was to make sure I stayed involved in other things than writing — no problem there. :) I don’t think it’s balanced, but it all tends to feed the writing, and visa versa.
So I think I might be selfish in the opposite — I often set aside the writing to do other things, because if I don’t, I would just end up sitting and staring at the computer a lot. As long as I get some writing done, I’m okay, and then can think about it the rest of the time, before I sit down again.
So I think my guilt is that I don’t dedicate as much time to writing as other writers I know…
But I can live with that… *G*
Sam