Resistance is real.
One of the treats I look forward to in my in-box each week is Daisy Buchanan’s Creative Confidence Clinic newsletter. Searingly honest and often very funny, it dissects creative process and the blocks we put in our own way.
I’ve known Daisy for a few years now, and I am awestruck at the amount she writes, to such a high standard: novels, non-fiction books, podcasts, journalism. But we all have times when we’re not so productive. And she’s going through one of those sticky patches.
Distraction is how we avoid hard things.
“I’ve spent January trying to start a new non-fiction project,” she wrote in last week’s newsletter. “I’m excited about it! When I was working on my novel, I was brimming with ideas for this project. It was my long-distance crush, the book I gazed at, and dreamed about from afar. Now, contracts have been signed, the novel has been delivered and it’s time for me to get cracking..
My editor has set me a very small, very achievable deadline for sending her a small sample of work. I assumed I’d meet it with Big Cruise Energy. You know, relaxed, with an open shirt, and an impressive selection of medallions on. I’d be typing with one hand and smoking a cigar with the other.
“Instead, I’ve been writing in circles. Realms and heaps, sure, but not useable words. And – most frustrating of all, as soon as it feels hard, and awkward, I’ve been scuttling off to the internet. Checking my emails every 90 seconds… Even occasionally hitting up Twitter and Instagram for notifications, and validation – which is like looking in Gwyneth Paltrow’s fridge for a delicious snack. I’ll take distraction in any form.”
Sound familiar?
It certainly does to me. Almost every feature I ever wrote as a journalist, there would be a bit where my words got tangled and I couldn’t get it right.
So I’d start thinking about the next interview, the next story I was due to write. This one would be straightforward, easy. I could see it all mapped out, and couldn’t wait to move on to it.
And yet.. when I started writing, it would prove to be just as hard. Every creative project has its messy middle, when the problems seem insurmountable and scrolling and surfing, cleaning out cupboards, computer games, Netflix and all of life’s other distractions become much more enticing
Focus is a challenge for creatives
In my ten-week group coaching course, which starts tomorrow (Feb 6), we have a full session about distraction, finding focus, doing the work. I suggest strategies, and the brilliant creatives in the group usually have some new ones to share.
Yet despite having all of these tools, there are still times when I sit down to write and end up obsessively scouring news sites to find something to be miserable/angry about, playing pointless computer games, or buying new containers on eBay in the hope that order will finally prevail and my kitchen shelves will be worthy of Instagram. (Spoiler alert: they won’t.)
Does this mean I’m broken?
Nope. It just means I’m human.
The most primal part of our brains cannot distinguish between real danger, and the feelings of fear, doubt and overwhelm that are a natural part of any creative process. So when the going gets tough in our writing, our art, our music, our minds instinctively come to the rescue.
If we’re about to be attacked, our emergency programming will quickly choose between fight, flight or freeze: whatever we need to do to get us out of danger. With difficult work, it reacts to our doubts and difficulties by running the siren call of procrastination to steer us out of the danger zone: I’m too tired today. I’m not in the mood. I’ll do it better tomorrow/later/after I’ve restyled the kitchen shelves again.
It’s a short-term fix. And we all know that if we give in to it, over time we’ll just feel worse and worse.
We are masters of distraction.
It’s how we’re wired. It’s no coincidence that we often get lots of shiny, exciting new ideas just as we hit a major bump on our current project. Or we start fantasising that the next project in the queue won’t have these problems.
In any long-term relationship, there are times when you fantasise about being alone, or with someone who doesn’t leave their dirty socks on the bedroom floor or somehow use every pan in the house making breakfast – then go to work without washing up.
But I’ve also had enough friends give in to those urges to know that once the infatuation phase fades, any new relationship will come with fresh irritants – or very similar ones.
Big creative projects are like relationships.
Until we really have to live with them, and work with them every day, we can fantasise that they will be perfect, easy, beautiful things that flow out of us effortlessly, this time. We can stay infatuated.
They never are as easy as we think. But it’s that fantasy that keeps us going: falling in love with other flawed humans; falling back in love with the human we’ve chosen to spend our lives with despite the socks; getting excited by new ideas; making more books, stories, songs, paintings, work even though it’s rarely easy.
So when the siren song begins for you, here are a few things to try:
Give in to your impulses. Be unfaithful.
Work on your next project, or your new and shiny idea for a while. Run away with it for a day, a weekend, an hour – whatever time you have available. It’s always important to capture new ideas when they come along, so you have them for later. But maybe choose one and go a little deeper, if you can.
Once you spend time with it, you’ll often see that it isn’t as perfect, easy or fully formed as you thought. There are always flaws, challenges, problems to solve. By then, your original project might look more enticing. Your subconscious might even have solved whatever knotty problem sent you looking for distractions in the first place.
Have an affair with your current project.
If you can’t get your new idea out of your head, choose to spend sone quality time with your current one. Take it away somewhere, for an illicit weekend or a mid-week mini-break. A hotel room or holiday let. Borrow a friend’s house, studio or workshop while they’re away. (And ask them NOT to share their wi-fi password.)
A new location and uninterrupted time might be all you need to rekindle that spark.
Use a timer.
I bang on about my timer constantly, because it’s such a simple, basic tool . But it’s effective.
When I’m feeling distracted, I commit to short sprints, set my timer and begin. Knowing there’s only five minutes to the end of this sprint makes it easier not to give in to the siren call of procrastination.
On a day when you can’t get motivated, this might get you into action. Sometimes eight 25-minute Pomodoro sessions seem easier than a solid four hours. And you can often get a surprising amount done in short, focussed sprints.
Go off-grid.
There’s a reason many prolific creatives go to a shed or remote studio to work, or some other place wi-fi doesn’t reach. I know every cafe and nook in my home town that doesn’t have internet access, and head to one of these dead zones when I can’t focus at home.
Writers are lucky that way; our work is relatively portable. If your work isn’t something you can just carry elsewhere, try leaving your phone at home or in another room. Turn your router off. Put as much friction as you can between you and your distraction of choice. Then dive in.
Juggle multiple projects.
This is not for everyone. Indeed, I used to believe that the only way to get a major project over the line was to focus on nothing else. But I’ve seen how some of my clients thrive by working on multiple projects at once. When one gets difficult and another is calling, they simply go to it and work on it until that gets hard and another one tugs at them.
If you going to try this, try to find physical ways to differentiate between them, so your mind knows what to focus on. The novelist Maggie O’Farrell has two desks, each set up for a different novel or idea. Artist/writer Austin Kleon also has two desks, one for digital, another for analogue. Choreographer Twyla Tharp would create boxes full of source material for different projects, neatly compartmentalising them.
Over to you..
What do you do when distraction calls? What are your strategies for focussing on your current project – and do you give in when the next one in the queue looks more enticing? I’d love to know!
What do you think?