Storytime

Last Wednesday I went to a workshop with Jon Bauer at the Victorian Writers Centre . It was dealing with, as the title suggests, getting out of your own way. In other words what is stopping you from doing the writing you want to do. It was a good workshop, full of common sense and practical advice. As I made my way home (quick mention of train problems and that it took me three hours to arrive -very late- and then two hours to get home) I thought of what is stopping me from getting the work done. It is easy isn't it...you have a rabble of words, you put them down in some sort of order and heh presto, you have written something. Even if it is on the fridge door. So the theory is basic. Put pen to paper, fingers to keyboard and get to work. But there is the crux...why aren't I working? Is it too many options. I could write or hang out the washing, write or weed the garden, write or go for a walk.... In other words, procrastination - which frankly I'm damned go...

I do have the best intentions (sure there is a proverb about this and the way to Hell) but I do. I get my copy of The Victorian Writer .I browse through the articles and then I begin to read the opportunities and competitions page. I ponder, circle a few that I feel are relevant, put a star against ones that I know I have a suitable piece just waiting. If needed, I go to the necessary website, check out submission details or entry forms, find out more requirements. In an ideal world this is then placed on my list. Yes I'm a list girl...it seems the only way to make any sense of what I hope to get done in a day/week/month. And I do love that feeling when something is crossed off my list. A sense of achievement, accomplishment. Knowledge that I have not wasted my day. Yet this year in particular I have missed so many deadlines. Firstly - because my list cleverly avoided many of these deadlines. Freudian perhaps? Secondly - I became very good this year at heading off on tangent...