Regular as clockwork

I mis-sold the idea slightly in my previous post.

The title implied that there would be some sort of regimented structure to these revived blogs; this, experience tells me, is almost certainly not the case. In my defence, when I started out writing it, I probably still held fondly onto the hope that I might be able to do what all the books and courses say and have a regular writing routine, it's a forlorn hope, though.

What I have struggled with most down the years of under-achievement is finding time. This isn't presented as a whinge or excuse, merely a statement of fact. Even when I am disciplined and get up early and try to stick to a writing routine something will often happen to bump me off course, life gets in the way (yes, I am blaming my children for my short-comings, it'll do until I come up with a more plausible excuse). This, in turn, has led to me feeling something of a failure.

I don't know where this idea of needing a strict routine came from entirely (in part, of course, from the books and courses), but I imagine it was a need to impose order on what, due to the unsociable hours I work, was a fairly chaotic sort of existence. However, what I failed to take account of, for many years, was the inalienable fact that it simply didn't work, it ran counter to life itself. You can't sit sternly at your desk Thinking Great Thoughts when a two year old is unhappy that Octonauts is on because they're scared of the fish.

I often think that when teaching writing, we neglect some fairly vital parts of a writing practice, ongoing development and consideration of poetics is a must, and interaction with other writers and work vital, but they don't amount to much if you never get five minutes sodding peace. Possibly some modules in how to carve out space without offending any family members, or ensuring that enough housework's done that you don't spark an argument about being self-indulgent. These, to my mind, are the real problems of the part-time writer with the full-time job.

So the paradox here is that to be regimented, I have to be less regimented. In order to ensure that I work, I have to be flexible in how I do so. I spent years as a late-night writer, only able to work when everyone else was asleep.As fatherhood and employment pulled my bed-time ever earlier, I became a semi-dedicated morning writer in response. Rising early to try and get a bit done. As I've already mentioned, this didn't always work out.

So I need to embrace a new and more flexible identity. To try and keep the gears turning, and try to keep even a trickle of productivity to stop the writing seizing up altogether, it's necessary to grab the opportunity when I can. I'm writing this after a shift at work, a little bit of typing before bed. An unusual time for me, this is normally a less productive part of the day, but needs must.

Needs, and must, are both highly loaded words here. It's important (to me, if not, I suspect the world of poetry in general) to keep going, and it's high time I recognised that I can't afford to be dogmatic about how I do so. Abandon routine to keep a routine. It's not the catchiest of slogans, but it'll have to do for now.