Focus, and How to Regain it: A Lesson from the Trial Ring
By Juliet Marillier | June 2, 2016 |
There I was, out walking with three canines on the lead, each wanting to go his own way. I gave the command, ‘Focus!’ I’d love to tell you that all three pairs of eyes were instantly on me, and three little bodies were ready to respond to the next instruction. That wouldn’t be quite true, but I did get their attention. Perfect obedience is unlikely to be achieved with my current crew of rescues, all of whom are either old and creaky or have chronic health problems. Or both.
I did have a lovely well-trained dog, Harry, with whom I attended the local obedience training club for four years. Some of you will know that I lost Harry under particularly traumatic circumstances about three months ago. Focus was a command I used to get his eyes back on me when he was distracted by an irresistible smell or an ambulance siren in the distance or a magpie up in the trees. Or he might have slipped into the ‘vague zone’ – dogs do sometimes get tired or bored with training and simply tune out. Focus is a particularly handy reminder for a short-legged dog, who has to look a long way up to maintain eye contact with his handler. It’s not such a stretch for border collies.
What has all this to do with writing, you ask?
I’ve had cause to doubt my own focus of recent times. That’s related to both writing and dogs. I’m writing this post three days before it’s due – too late to let it sit for a while, then give it an edit, as I’d prefer. I’m leaving for New Zealand to attend the national Science Fiction and Fantasy convention, Au Contraire, on June 1. I thought I would be as well organised as usual. But a week and a half ago, one of my dogs developed an eye ulcer that would not heal – this required a lot of care, numerous vet trips and, eventually, a visit to a specialist followed by surgery this morning. The timing could hardly have been worse; my stress levels went through the roof. And, of course, I communicated them to all five dogs. I hate leaving my little crew at the best of times; doing so when one of them is ill is so much worse.
Let’s not mention the short story with a submission date of May 31, and the novel I’m supposed to be working on, which hasn’t been touched since Zen fell ill. I sit here surrounded by memos to myself, lists of veterinary medications and dosages, convention programs, notes for panels, house-sitting instructions, road maps showing the way to the boarding kennels and so on. I don’t like being weighed down by all this stuff. I like to be on top of things. I especially hate the scattered feeling that comes with having a multitude of tasks to be performed in a limited time. The more that feeling grows, the less focused I become.
Most of us humans don’t have handlers to guide us through the obstacle course of daily life. We have to take responsibility; be our own handlers. So I tell myself that sometimes we just can’t do all the things. Not at the same time, anyway. Sometimes the practical arrangements are all we can manage, and the creative side needs to wait until we have the time and brain space for it. I don’t like lack of control. I am very uncomfortable when I feel the dogs pulling all ways and I’m mortified when they behave badly. I hate submitting work late. I hate being under-prepared for panels and workshops. It feels as if the work part of my life is also pulling all ways at once.
It’s time to tell myself, Focus. When a dog hears that, his attention is drawn sharply back to the task in hand – walk to heel, execute a figure of eight or whatever. My task in hand is to get the essential jobs done in the available time. My inner handler says:
1. Stay off Facebook and other social media except for essential communications.
2. Make all the lists into a single list. Cross items off as you complete them.
3. Set aside some future time for writing. Think how much you could get done on those long flights!
4. Where you can, delegate tasks to others.
5. Travel brings new ideas and experiences; this time it will also trigger memories. Take notes; use your five senses; find story potential in what you see, hear, touch, taste and smell.
I remind myself that during this stressful patch there have been many positives. I was granted an extension for the story; the specialist fitted us into his very busy schedule; my dog came through surgery well; I was invited to step in as a Guest of Honour at the convention, replacing someone who had to cancel. Best of all, I’m going home.
Travel may make me slow to respond to comments, folks – don’t take it personally. Put your handler’s outfit on for me, and share one essential command you would give yourself for managing your writer’s life.
Image: Juliet’s dog Bodhi. Photo copyright Glenn Ware.
Juliet Marillier has written twenty-four novels for adults and young adults and two collections of short fiction. Her works of historical fantasy have been published around the world and have won numerous awards. Juliet’s most recent series was Warrior Bards, of which the third and final book, A Song of Flight, was published in 2021. Her collection of reimagined fairy tales, Mother Thorn and Other Tales of Courage and Kindness, had its trade release in 2022. Mother Thorn is illustrated by Kathleen Jennings and published by Serenity Press.
Juliet is currently working on a two-book fantasy series. The first book in this duology, The Amber Owl, will be published by New Dawn in February 2025.
When not writing, Juliet looks after a small crew of rescue dogs.
Juliet,
I’m in that same unfocused position right now, except I’m trying to heel humans instead of dogs. My dogs actually listen to me.
LOVE the five tips. My time on FB (and I love FB) was also the first thing to take a hit. The other ones are taking shape, too.
Safe travels to New Zealand, and healing vibes for your dog’s eye ulcer.
Thanks for the good wishes, Mike. I’m so happy I don’t have to heel humans any more!
Juliet, my two commands would be ‘sit’ and ‘stay’!! :)
Susan, brilliant!
Juliet, I hope your trip is successful and Zen heals well.
Thanks on both counts, Vijaya.
Yes, those are the basics!
As I near the finish line on a project, and the details seem to mount, threatening to overwhelm, my command for myself is: “Remember your passion for this story!”
This is a wonderful reminder post for me. Best to you and your crew, Juliet!
Good one, Vaughn. One sure thing is that if you let that passion get overwhelmed by the details, the writing slips too. Thanks for the good wishes. I’m trying to refrain from making international phone calls to find out how my crew members are getting on, Zen in particular.
I’m always amazed how things show up in my inbox right when I need them. Thank you for your post. I’m sorry your dog was ill, but I feel a little better knowing I’m not the only one trying to juggle a hundred things and feeling overwhelmed by it. I was having an overwhelmed moment just this morning. My command to get back on track? Breathe.
Ah, yes – that comes before anything else, doesn’t it? Even in the trial ring. If the handler forgets to breathe, she won’t be calm and neither will her dog.
My command to my obedience dogs was “Watch me!” (In earlier years my home-bred German Shepherd Dogs were international champions in both conformation and obedience…)
My command to myself: “CONCENTRATE” How trite is that!
Then I turn off the TV, get off the internet, and turn on the music.
Yes, I love the idea of lists. Trouble is, I forget to make lists: and when I do make lists I never think of everything I need to do (the list is long), and often when I set out somewhere to get stuff on the list I may forget to take the list.
:)
And my dogs today are two rescue shepherd types that were scheduled for euthanasia. Obedience? Yes, they come when called.
My crew are all rescues. That was another thing that made Harry so remarkable – he was a rescue, a small dog, mature aged, with some artificial bits in his knees, but did his very best out there among the border collies. It was no wonder, really, that he made such an impression in his short life.
My command to myself (also blessed — or not — with an A.D.D. canine), no matter what I’m writing: write the first word.
True, the first word is pretty much always the hardest. But without it, there can be no second, third, etc. So it eventually repays the effort. :)
Thanks for this essay Juliet. Loved the examples and analogues from real life, especially the poochy ones of course. So sorry for your recent loss but it sounds like you picked yourself up and kept going. Good for you!
Thanks, John! I picked myself up, yes, but am realising the loss is still affecting me – I posted the response to Lyn’s comment and found myself crying. It’s probably good for me.
Writing the first word – that is great advice. First sentence even better.
“So I tell myself that sometimes we just can’t do all the things. Not at the same time, anyway. Sometimes the practical arrangements are all we can manage, and the creative side needs to wait until we have the time and brain space for it.”
This is such a sane and sensible comment. If we actually added up all the things we do accomplish in a given day (along with just trying to live in the moment with family and friends), we might be more forgiving and patient, especially when it comes to writing novels. Now there’s a task…
Thank you for this helpful and encouraging post!
You’re very welcome, SK. I’m glad it came across as sane and sensible!
For me, focus = deadline.
About five years ago I started covering the hospital board meetings for our local weekly newspaper, where I learned the focusing power of an editor and a deadline. From the very first article, I was amazed by both the sudden clarity of my thinking and how much I could accomplish when my only choices were to submit an article or fail. (News is only news when its new, even on a weekly paper.)
As nerve-wracking as it can be, writing under pressure seems to work for me: I wrote for the paper for a year and a half, and other than rearranging the first paragraph of the first few articles, none of my articles were ever edited, even when I substantially exceeded the requested word length. Of course, I wasn’t writing fiction, but from time to time I managed to craft a phrase or sentence that left me a little giddy. (But, oh, how I sometimes wish for the sound of a gavel again: bang, meeting adjourned, story over, the end!)
Since my mind seems to require a time constraint in order to work instead of wander, now when I open my WIP I set a timer for one hour, and I stop writing when the timer goes off. (This method inspired by a Jo Eberhart WU post last year.) Every morning I play “Beat the Clock”, and it somehow works, at least in terms of productivity (not yet sure about the quality). Knowing that the minutes are ticking away keeps me focused. Of course, I could cheat and no one would ever know, but there is something about the act of setting that timer that changes my mindset: I have one hour and one hour only. I guess cheating is impossible because it wouldn’t make sense–I’d just be cheating on myself.
Thank you for the excellent suggestion, CK. I may well try this when I get home and back into some solid writing. I do set daily word counts for myself but I like the timer idea a lot. (My dogs will freak out when the alarm goes off, though. The phone ringing triggers mass hysteria in my house.)
Time out!
That seems to get my wandering mind back to figuring out what is most important and then working out how I am going to get it done.
Great suggestion, Elizabeth. And there are lots of ways for time out to happen, from sitting down with a cup of tea to going for a brisk walk or a swim. Change of pace, change of scene. For me, exercise often works to reboot the scattered brain.
My essential command: simplify. That always gets me refocused on the essentials.
Focus is so important in everything, and I have an especially hard time with that, too. Reading about your frenetic experience of preparing for your trip made me smile as I recalled a similar experience when preparing for a recent trip to Boston. I was all over the place, and I had several lists. One in my office for business. One in the kitchen for things to do before I left. One in my bedroom for things to pack. When I read your tips and got to, “Make all the lists into a single list. Cross items off as you complete them,” I snorted coffee through my nose. Why didn’t I think of that? LOL
Do hope your dog is recovering.