When good ideas begat time management fiascos

Big project is done.  New draft of another project will be sent off to editor by Friday.  That gives me the weekend to read a short story Kelli Dunlap is supposed to send me and write another story of my own.  On Monday, I start working on my Young Adult Horror idea.

And last night Shawna said, “I thought you were done with writing?”  Either she was saying that tongue planted firmly in cheek or she’s decided I should give up and be a waiter or something.  Sadly, she won’t tell me which.

Anyway, all of this got me thinking about the way I currently write, manage my time, and how it all will probably drive me bugfuck crazy within a year or two.

See, when I get an idea (or, preferably, a really good idea) I like to start working on it right away.  And if something needs doing, writing-wise, I tend to jump on it.  Paul Puglisi told a story at Necon this year about me saying I’d have a new draft of a story to him within a few days, only to turn it in an hour later.  That’s just what I do.  I get excited, and I attack.  Boom, and all that jazz.

Well, this personal philosophy tends to create a few time management snafus.  Luckily, I’m not exactly weighed down by real deadlines at this stage, but I honestly couldn’t pull off all the writing I want to without a thirty-hour workday or one helluva meth habit.

Case in point: I have an idea for a novel called Firewater.  More than just a novel, it’s a love letter, a way of expressing my thankfullness and admiration for Shawna and the rest of my family, along with my friends, pets, and this incredible city I live in, all wrapped up in a supernatural noir story starring homeless people.  I honestly think it’s going to be one of the best things I’ve written to this point, and I can’t wait to get started.

I should be able to get started in May at the earliest.  That sucks in ways I don’t care to describe, but I have to finish up all the ideas (some of which are really good ideas, at least in my head) that came before it.  It makes me want to rip my hair out (or at least wish I had hair to rip out), but it simply must be done.  It’s how I work.

When I start getting actual deadlines, this practice will need to change.  I know this, and it terrifies me.  If you don’t mind, I’m now going to crawl under my desk and cry.

Special Note: Shawna is nothing but supportive of both me and my writing.  Please take the above Shawna comments as the lame attempts at comedy that they are.