If you are a writer, there is a good chance you work at home. You probably have your workspace set up and you do your best to write as much as you can. Right?
Not so much. When people know that you work at home, they think that means you are endlessly available. So while you are struggling with getting just the right word for a complex sentence, they think nothing of dropping by to ask about the replacement part for your vacuum cleaner. I never want to talk about vacuum cleaners in the best of times, and certainly not when I’m working.
You could be working diligently, filling up those pages, but it’s going to be hard if you are constantly interrupted. The phone rings. It’s your child’s school asking you to bring snack the next day. A text pops up. The bank is letting you know about a wire transfer. Your sister-in-law wants to know if her anniversary party should be next weekend or the weekend after.
What do all these things have in common?
They are not important when you are working and they are irritating. And ALL of them can wait.
How do you get around this?
Simple. Have set working hours, just like people who work in an office. You work in an office too, even if that office is your kitchen, and you want your work time to be respected. How to resolve this?
Stick to your work hours and demand that everyone else stick to them too. Put your phone in the other room so that you won’t be bothered by it. Out of sight, out of mind. If someone knocks on your door, either don’t answer it or tell them politely but firmly that you are working and cannot be disturbed.
I once had an author who used an answering machine. When people called, this is what they heard: “Hi, this is Martha. I’m writing right now, but if you leave your name and number, I’ll call you right back.” Click. That was it. She demanded respect for her work, and she got it.
Your work time is your work time. Period. Even if you throw out everything you wrote that day, it is still your work and it’s as important as anyone else’s work. Writing is isolating, and it’s hard. It requires serious concentration. Sometimes it is very challenging.
Would you call your spouse, who is a surgeon, in the middle of a difficult operation to ask where the can opener is? No, you wouldn’t. Maybe your spouse is saving a life, and that’s more important. But writing may be saving your life. That requires its own brand of respect.
){kind=icon}
