Let me just share, for a moment, my weekday schedule:
6:00 am – Up for work, getting myself and baby ready (with assistance from the spouse).
7:41 am – Train one to work.
7:59 am – Train two to work. Baby has stopped napping on the train. Yay. No freedom from the punishment of Peek-a-Boo!
9:00 am – Work. Both lab and teaching every day but Tuesday and Friday.
4:00 pm – Out of work (I don’t take lunch!). Except Thursdays, because then I teach until 7:00 pm.
5:30 pm – Home with baby. More punishment.
6:30 pm – Spouse comes home to take baby while cooking. Baby enjoys “the sizzlies” of the stove. I get to destress.
7:30/8:00 pm – Baby asleep. Free time until bed, preferably by 10:30 pm.
So, on a normal weekday, I don’t start my writing/editing journey until after 8:00 pm.
Are there exceptions? Sure.
Can I write at work? Sometimes. Benefit of my own office. During the summer when there are no classes, I often write a bit.
Does this all cut into my productivity? Oh hell yes.
Before the baby, I used my hour commute both ways to write on the phone or tablet. Or in my stream-of-consciousness plotting journal. I could work through snags or finish up an easy 1k words while blasting music.
Not anymore. This, of course, was my decision to have children so I should have taken that into account.
Before I became and adjunct alongside my main administrative work, I had the time to write at work. I’d have a few hours while a professor lectured before I had to go assist in the lab. Now that I’m the professor?
Not anymore. This was not my decision, really. It was the only way to afford to live.
It’s strange to see what used to be at least four or five hours during the day to write be reduced to two (or less). Years ago, I could join crazy challenges on WriYe or participate in word count goals that are far higher than I have now. (I wrote nearly 200k a month once!)
Having just two hours to really play with (if I take out the hour of destressing and eating, I could have three) means I have to get serious about it. Once the nightlight goes on and the door is shut, my laptop is on my lap. Work has to start. And words should flow and red ink should be spilled.
And what I’ve found is that this makes me not more productive, but more successful. So far this year, I’ve written one novel and four short stories. I’ve put up two novellas for critique. I’ve finished editing/preparing for revision 137,000 words. I’ve never edited more than 20k before now!
I’ve become less voluminous but more focused. More serious. And hopefully more ready for getting this writing career off the ground. It just goes to show…
“If you want something done, ask a busy person.”
(Of course, weekends are a different story. I can foist the baby on the spouse and lock myself away for a few hours to work on something. It just means watching her on my own to give back the same time.)