You Can’t Do It All
By Greer Macallister | May 2, 2022 |
When you read the headline of this piece — you can’t do it all — did you bristle? Relax? Recognize your own struggle as a writer? For most of us, it can be a combination of the three.
We want to do it all, of course. If a great book idea comes into our heads, we want to write that book. If we have a book releasing into the world, we want to visit every bookstore and write every blogpost and promote! promote! promote! on social media. We want to share wonderful memory-making moments with our families and friends, take care of our responsibilities, do our jobs to the highest standard, field the curveballs life throws our way, all while maintaining healthy lifestyles, clean homes, and impressive writing careers.
Can we, though? See the headline above.
It’s simply a fact. You will run out of time and energy somewhere, sometime. Even if you’ve set up your life to minimize distractions, to focus completely on writing, there’s still the possibility of multiple writing projects competing for your time and energy. We have to choose between writing and life sometimes, or between one piece of writing and another. It can feel like a battle. Writing vs. family. Promoting a book vs. writing the next one. Day job vs. writing career. Traveling for an event vs. using that time to rest and recharge.
You’ll have those choices to make, no matter where you are in your journey as a writer. So, knowing you can’t do absolutely everything, how do you make those choices? Here are three things to consider.
Impact. This is how I decide between different promotional tasks: what will the most people see? How much will it affect them? I do as much as I can, but again, see the headline. Will proofreading your manuscript one more time before sending it to your editor make a big difference? Maybe, maybe not. Will one more round of feedback on your query letter matter that much? Yes, it absolutely can. This applies to other things in life, too: Nora Roberts famously observed that if you’re juggling writing and kids, and it feels like you have too many balls in the air, remember that some of the balls are made of plastic and some made of glass. You’ll absolutely drop some, so just make sure they’re the plastic ones.
Ownership. The thing has to be done, yes. But does it have to be done by you? Personally, I’m 100% terrible at asking for help. (Just ask my husband, who has found me more than once moving a mattress down two flights of stairs solo just because I can technically do it myself.) But when I recently hurt my back (shockingly, unrelated to either of the mattress incidents) and couldn’t rise from the couch without pain, I found a way to do much, much less than I’m accustomed to doing. Hopefully, you don’t have to be out of commission entirely to look at ways to lighten your load. Can dinner be ordered in? Can someone else take the kids to school or pick them up? Sometimes, I know, the answer is no, but it’s always worth asking the question. Maybe your editor could take first crack at the cover copy. Maybe you could outsource some of your social media. Think about delegating.
Enjoyment. If you’ve got a long list of things to do, some of those things will be more fun than others. And if you’re the only one who can do them and the impact is about the same, ask yourself: which do I enjoy more? I do a fair number of events about other people’s books, reading the book and interviewing the author in front of an audience, either virtual or in-person. Those events don’t sell a lot of books for me, but I do it because I like it. I get to read advance copies of books and connect with other writers. That’s fun. Is it time I could have spent on something else? Always. But the energy I get from enjoying myself in this author-life space fortifies me for the next series of maybe-less-pleasant tasks to tackle.
Q: When you decide you can’t do it all, what helps you decide what to do?
Raised in the Midwest, Greer Macallister earned her MFA in creative writing from American University. Her historical novels have been named Book of the Month, Indie Next, LibraryReads, Target Book Club, and Amazon Best Book of the Month picks and optioned for film and television. Her latest novel, The Thirteenth Husband, is inspired by Aimee Crocker, the Paris Hilton of the Gilded Age. Macallister also writes the ongoing Five Queendoms epic fantasy series as G.R. Macallister. A regular contributor to Writer Unboxed and the Chicago Review of Books, she lives with her family in Boston, MA. www.greermacallister.com
Ha! I pop over to Writer Unboxed to see what the latest advice is!
I naively thought when I left the work-for-pay-35-hours-a-week gig that I’d have more time to write. But I moved to the country and have plants to plant! Warblers to find! Rain barrels to put out! I volunteer for the library, so am doing publicity and marketing for that. The writing did speed up and now I have a novel coming out this summer, so there’s marketing to research! Copy to write! Events to line up! And I have the second in the trilogy to finish, then the last one to start.
Needless to say, the house is a mess. I have no kids, thankfully, so no glass balls to drop. I do work well under a deadline, but the quality will suffer. The last book had no deadlines, and I could take forever with the next one, but I don’t want to and I’m sure my readers won’t want that.
I’m a bit ADD, so I tend to jump from project to project anyway, and now that I’m a tad older, it tends to be mid-project before I forget about the next project.
I guess it all gets done in the end, but I wish I could jettison the useless stuff, but that tends to be the most addictive.
Thanks for the three good things to consider! (And I’m exactly like that with mattresses! What’s that all about?)
Thanks Greer. I tell myself I can do it all, though yesterday my plan to work on inserting passages into the novel and making some changes, well, it did not happen. Today it will. I blog every weekend and I never fail to get that done. Priorities are important. Reading your post helps. Often I get an idea and it moves me immediately to make a note; the note propels me to decide how I can use the idea. For every writer, I’m sure the answers are different.
For me, the question is always what can only I do? Only I can write my book. But am I the only one who can make dinner, do laundry, mow the lawn, serve on this committee or board, etc.? Women especially often need to expect more out of the other people living in their homes. I am also someone who moves furniture on my own because I can and because there’s a weird mixture of pride and humility in that (not wanting to bother anyone to ask for help and then also proving I don’t need that help anyway). That way lay burnout, bitterness, resentment, and relationship problems as you wish that others would see you working so hard and just offer to help. Can’t they see that you’re doing all the work?!! But when you are ultra-competent and independent, what others actually see is someone who doesn’t need help. You have to ask. You have to verbalize it. And to do that, you have to admit and accept it.
Thanks Erin. I have been realizing too that I have been acting like I did not need help, so people haven’t been helping. Sometimes I wish for a faster learning process than through experience. Your reflecting on what we’re learning, without judgement, helps.
Erin, what you wrote was about me thirty years ago when I was young and strong and in charge of the house. And it was sooooo hard for me to relinquish that “in charge” to ask for help. And now, when prioritizing what I need to do, I’m like you. Only I can write my stories.
Exactly! I am trying to figure out what I will have to do and delegate.
“For me, the question is always what can only I do?”
This is so important, Erin. When I left my scientific career to raise my babies, it was precisely this. There are many scientiest, but my kiddos will only have one mother. But it took me much longer to learn this lesson with my writing life. I was often chasing publication and money, so writing for the market instead of working on the stories that only I can write. I love how much this writing life allows one to grow.
I love your three criteria! I have been a strong advocate of the last one—do the stuff that you actually enjoy and want to do—for a long time; otherwise, it’s easy to become overwhelmed and frightened of not doing something that you see others doing (good old FOMO). As I read your piece, it strikes me that there is a companion blog: criteria for NOT doing a particular writing-related task. And that the criteria can be very individual, too. For example, I will do something wild that might or might not end up “paying off,” as they say … because it’s a moment when I need that freedom and spontaneity. Because it’s an opportunity to step outside my comfort zone. Because life is short. Just because.
Greer, it’s as if you are reading my mind! I’ve been thinking a lot about how I spend my energy and am I spending it on things that I value or that bring me value. It’s very hard for me to delegate and my job isn’t one that I can do that with, but I probably could either let go of some of what overwhelms me or turn it over. Thanks for the reminder.
And then there’s aging. Yes, that. The last twenty years of my life has gone by in a whoosh. Getting older brings on another set of road blocks. They can be daunting or delivering.
So now you’ve dealt with aging parents, and they’ve passed on. It’s your turn. Not just new aches, pains, and diseases … it’s also about keeping up with technology. You think once you’ve retired, you can invest more time at the computer. Finally get through the pile of ideas you’ve collected the past decades. The stress of completing the next book increases to the point your goals suddenly change. But how they change depends on your mental AND your physical strength.
Getting that novel published suddenly takes a different turn. All those professional contacts at the plethora of writing conferences you struggled to get to mean very little. The younger writers can worry about the “industry” and all their rules. You no longer spend hours with “experts.” Unknowingly, you have become an expert. All that matters now is your readers. Whether that’s two or two thousand. They are what matters. That becomes your only goal. Your only timeline.
In that respect, aging is the most freeing times for the writer. I embrace it.
“All that matters now is your readers…aging is the most freeing times for the writer. I embrace it.”
So true, Pamela. One of the great blessings of being chronically ill is the ability to let go of all expectations and focus on the most important things. God first, family second, writing third.
Greer, thank you for the reminder that we cannot do it all and your criteria. They are good. I’m at the stage in my life where I find myself choosing what brings the most joy and peace. Right now, even though I have a novel that needs polishing, there’s a story I’ve been daydreaming about for a few months and gosh, it’s just so much fun to see it taking shape, I’ll continue working on it, see where it leads.
How do I decide what to do next?
Eeny, meeny, miny, moe,
Which direction should I go?
Finish this or start another?
Read a book or two — oh, brother!
Pour a glass of wine and chill
And dream about that five-book deal,
Then hit the keyboard once again
And write the next “Of Mice and Men.”
Great tips, Greer!
Clapping! I love this!
Ha! Thanks, Vijaya. I channeled my inner Ogden Nash.
What a terrific post and discussion going on. Greer, your last point in the essay about doing something just for fun, with maybe no RIO is the way I assess things to do that are writing-related and may or may not sell books. Recently I spoke at a community college library and sales were not allowed. But I had a grand time talking about stories and women writers throughout history and my own writing career. It was fun and I was energized when the event was over.
Greer, I needed this article! Thank you so much!
Greer, we must be kindred spirits. I once dragged butcher block kitchen table, that sat six comfortably, out of my house, down the front steps and to the street—alone! Priorities, priorities.