When you want to make time to write, you have to make a choice to say NO.
I say a choice because that’s exactly what it is. Each time you are distracted you have to learn to choose whether your writing is more important- or the distraction.
Now this can be simple when the distraction is ironing, or watching party political broadcast – on behalf of ANY party . But what about when the distractions are of a more tempting kind?
My suggestions are as follows:
Buy a lock for your door and use it.
This works for so long – until my grandchildren arrive. Then it’s a matter of how long you can stand the door rattling and Elsie’s little voice calling through wood.
“Ma, Ma. Let me in. Ma! Ma!” A few more rattles, a little hand banging on the door, the rattling handle again. “Ma! Ma!” More desperate this time and by then, so am I.
I always give in. It’s torture to try and type when she’s on the other side. So I go into the kitchen and we play washing up. Then I play clearing up afterwards.
Buy some earplugs so you can’t hear the above.
I really wish that this one worked but I can’t, I’m not that cold-hearted!
Grandchildren aside, I can avoid most distractions these days.
I have practised ignoring the cleaning until later in the day. And I mean practised.
I would get twitchy sitting down to write if I hadn’t vacuumed and dusted in case anyone turned up unexpectedly and reported me to the equivalent
of the social services for bad housewives. Now I can quite happily walk past layers of dust and unwashed cups to get to work. I have to. If I start
washing up then I think it will only take a couple of minutes to get the Dyson out and while I’m at it, it will only take a couple more minutes to mop
the kitchen floor. Before you know it you’ve used up all the time you allocated for writing.
If you want to write, WRITE.
You can’t afford to get distracted anymore.
Choose to write and then do the housework. I’ve found it much more effective.
If I can just train the dog to empty the washing machine I’ll have cracked it.