Writer's foibles

I ought to be working, and so... I bring you this blog entry, not on the theme of procrastination (which I believe has already been quite comprehensively covered both by myself and other bloggers), but on writer's foibles and obsessions.
As a breed, writers are generally accepted to be a neurotic, eccentric bunch. For one thing, a person has to be a bit screwy to want to spend hours of their time making things up. And for a second thing, the conditions that a writer needs to do his or her work - sitting in a room alone, involved with the problems of their characters, depicting and representing what is essentially a 'fantasy world' to others - only exacerbate matters.

Through idly reading through blogs on RedRoom (yes, I should have been working then, as well) and observing my own behaviour - as well as that of writing friends - I've compiled the following list of writer's obsessions.

1. Word counts. How long does it need to be, how many can I write today, how many have I written already, and - horror of horrors - how many might I need to edit out at the end? When so much of our work has an intangible quality, and is subject to - well, subjectivity - word counts give us something concrete, something functional we can hang on to. Never mind the plausibility of the plot, or the coherence of these characters. Word counts are something we can easily judge for ourselves - hell, the word-processor will count them for us - and we don't need objective opinions on. In times of lean inspiration, its the word count who casts his villainous shadow across our work.

2. Comparison with other authors. Am I too old or too young to write a masterpiece like Hard Times? What age was Kazuo Ishiguro when he wrote Remains of the Day? Why did X get his novel published with such relative ease, and what is wrong with me that I can't? Why do I spend so much time messing about on Facebook when I could be working on my novel? I bet Jane Austen never spent this much time commenting on other people's photos. (Only because they didn't have social networking in the 18th century).

3. Notebooks. A separate notebook for everything, and everything in its right notebook. A notebook for keeping track of submissions and competitions, a notebook for writing down true stories from work. A notebook for keeping track of ideas, and a notebook for cutting out funny stories from papers and magazines. A notebook for keeping track of errors and plot lines for the novel, and a notebook for writing to-do lists in. There is no excuse for writing down an overheard conversation in the character-work notebook. Everything must be in the correct notebook, otherwise everything descends into complete anarchy. Boyfriend keeps complaining that there are notebooks all over the house. Suggests that I could perhaps get a notebook to keep a track of where all my notebooks are.

4. Thinking too much. From reading blogs with keywords like "it won't write itself" to "nobody procrastinates like a writer", I've gathered that this is a common problem among us. We all spend hours thinking about what will happen in our books, or what our lives could be like as a 'successful' author (how we define success differs from person to person, of course; for some of us, success is being as commercially successful as Stephen King; for others, success is being as critically acclaimed as Muriel Spark; for others, success might be having a few friends read your work and genuinely enjoy it). From what I've heard, some writers spend hours caught up in these thoughts, and too little time writing. Not that I ever spend too much time thinking myself, with a heavy side-order of unproductivity, you understand. It's just what I've heard from other people.

I realise this is only a short list of four, and that there are probably other writer's quirks and obsessions that I've missed out. I'd be interested to hear other people's thoughts on the strange habits of the writer!

Neurosis bingo!

This post first appeared on my Red Room profile

For something that's meant to be relaxing, sleeping can be incredibly hard work. There's no time like the early hours of the morning to magnify trifling troubles into insurmountable problems. My brain actively invents problems when I'm trying to sleep, and then won't shut up about them. What am I going to do about my 'problems' when it's 2AM and I'm meant to be asleep?

The rational part of me knows how stupid it is to pay my racing-mind a second's attention; but the obsessive part of me says, "Hang on, she might be onto something here." I'm left laying half-awake, thinking at roughly an eighth of my normal capacity, trying to solve problems that really don't exist, and which will look quite frankly laughable in the morning.
Don't believe me? I'll write you a list of the things that have kept me awake over the past three weeks or so (I bet many of you out there have got similarly pointless obsessions).

1. Cannot believe how much better than my old job my new job is. Practise and lack of protocol at my old place were horrendous. (leading on to...) I must have picked up a load of bad habits from working there. No wonder my new workmates were looking at me so strangely today. Maybe should just try to sit very still at new job and not get in anybody's way, but not so still that it becomes obvious that I'm not really doing any work. That will only lead to more bother.

2. Noticed that my friend has started chatting to his ex on Facebook. She was no good, that one. Cheated on him several times and ultimately left him for somebody else. Wonder if they are getting back together? Hope not. Last time I saw her I told her what a slut she was. I can see that being a bit awkward socially.

3. I've got a long drive to work tomorrow. Wonder if my little car is up to doing all these miles? Long journeys mean more risk of being involved in an accident. Better concentrate really hard behind the wheel (although staying awake worrying about driving to work isn't going to help much in that regard).

4. When I start working 5 days a week, how am I going to find time to write? Maybe could hide in stock cupboard at work and do it when nobody is looking. Alternatively, could do it late at night, when I would only otherwise be lying awake in bed thinking about rubbish...