I read someone’s blog years ago ( I don’t remember who wrote it…my apologies) in which she stated how she had carved out a space of time to write every day, but all she accomplished were the most spotless, organized closets in existence. Before I read that, I assumed it was something I inherited.
My father was guilty of this. He was forever cleaning his studio so he could work. Somehow, the studio was rarely clean and work was sporadic. It always seemed to me to be a procrastination tactic. But was it?
If you’re a writer and you’ve never watched Albert Brooks’ The Muse (1999), you should take a look. The muse of this script is the perfect personification of inspiration–it’s demanding, high-maintenance, illogical on the surface, lazy, flaky, and unconcerned with real-world issues. If you’ve ever written anything, you’ll have to agree with the message of this movie–you have to buy into insanity to follow your inspiration, but it may be worth it.
Whether you agree with the message or not, you have to concede that there is something about inspiration that makes demands on the environment. Writers picture the perfect place for writing, and it’s usually a beach or mountain scene with peaceful views and extreme luxury, free of clutter, dust, noise, and the possibility of intrusions.
By the way, I have journeyed to locations like those and accomplished zero writing. A good time was had by all, though. I’ve learned the hard way that there is no perfect place to write.
However, when I have the thought that I can’t write until I clean off my desk, I will usually give in to that urge. Clutter is a distraction. Clearing it is worth the effort.
No suggestions for this dilemma, unfortunately. Whether you end up with a bestselling novel or a clean house, you’ve accomplished something.
