I cannot lie to you. I am not an organised creature. I am really happiest in flux, distracted by that weed that bends in the wind, whistling along to birdsong, scratching the back of my neck and remembering a smell from long ago – one recently took me back to afternoons in my father’s darkroom watching as black lines and patches appeared on the paper as it floated in the fixer…. see?
But, when it comes to the writing life the key is being organised.
Like with many things, say for instance getting fit or learning another language, you need persistence. But, you also need to file that persistence into an organised spearhead. Or at least, that is what has worked for me.
I have become a creature of lists, sticky notes and reminders. I have become strict about my time. And this is actually key because I have to factor in some time to dream, remember and doodle on my notepads.
Which is the difficult thing because with all this organisation its easy to get into a frame of mind where that part of the job is overwhelming, where the organiser in me re arranges the markers and files notes in alphabetical order somewhat strangling the dreamer.