Lists by Misha Herwin
There are those people who make lists and those who
don’t. I must admit that I find the latter very hard to understand. For me,
lists are an integral part of my life and I am not sure how well I would
function without them.
I make lists of things to do, to buy, to take on
holiday and what has to be done at the last minute before going away. That is
good one as it saves that horrible feeling of panic as we are about to join the
motorway and I wonder if I had indeed switched off the boiler, or locked the
front door. If it’s been ticked off the list, which I have in my pocket, then
I’ve done it.
When planning a novel, I list every chapter and most
of the key points in each one. It is not until I have this that I start
writing. Of course, this is only a rough outline of what is going to happen and
as the book progresses the list is amended, sometimes even torn up and started
afresh. My latest WIP had so many lists, both on the computer and on paper,
that I lost count.
Having something of a butterfly mind, or rather being
a very creative person who can rarely resist the temptation to follow an
exciting new thread and move on from one project to the next without finishing
the first, I find that lists keep me on track.
Today, I am going to write my blog for Authors’
Electric, work on my novel, then send a number of writing related emails. When
all this has been done, I’ll be free to get on with the rest of the things on
my list.
Making a list of boring, everyday stuff means that it
gets done. It also works for the jobs I find stressful, or intimidating as the pressure
to cross them off tends to outweigh the fear and, once I start, I invariably
find that what I was nervous about actually wasn’t that scary.
My list, therefore, keeps me efficient and focussed,
plus a feeling of satisfaction; a metaphorical pat on the back.
The downside is, and there is a downside to this most favourite
of activities, that lists can also prove limiting.
After experimenting with various ways of working, I
have found what works best is to allocate a set amount of time for my writing
each day. Top of the list in my diary is to write for an hour. Which is great,
except that some days I could write for a lot longer. I could, in fact, spend
all morning working on the novel, or the short story, but, because it’s been
marked as done, there is something in my brain that resists doing more.
I think the answer is to schedule in a number of
blocks of time and not cross the last one off until the end of the day.
After I’ve posted this blog, I’ll go and put that top
of my things to do tomorrow.
Comments
But in general day-to-day life, nothing would get done without my lists to remind and nudge me. And there's some things that still don't get done - they keep getting pushed further and further down the list. I suppose it's a bit like my brother-out-law's approach to memos - he keeps one for three days and if no one contacts him about it in that that time, he bins it and forgets it. - If it gets pushed to the forgotten depths of the bottom of my lists, it doesn't really need doing.
I like to believe it leaves my ageing brain time to concentrate on creative things (and enjoying life generally). I dignify it with the grand name of 'Time and Stress Management' (TSM) because it is loosely based on a TSM course I did many years ago.
Of course, possibly I am just some kind of nerd/geek/OCD-ite. Oh, dear. This post feels like a coming-out confession . . .