Organisational by Jan Edwards

You would think December would be the month when projects are finished. Decks cleared ready for the new year. It should be and I wish I were that organised, but instead of making great strides on my next novel I’ve spent the first few weeks in 2020 scrambling to meet deadlines.

Back in August having three short stories to write by January seemed like a doddle.  Come Christmas Eve with a house full of guests… not so much.  A lot of midnight oil was burned, along with some doubled-ended candles, and those stories are winging their way through the ether – but I do wish I was more organised.

Now I just have a novel to edit for a colleague and a final draft on my own to complete. And its 5.30 on the 18^th with seven hours left to get my 19^th of January Authors Electric posting logged. What that saying about no rest?

In my defence I have been working solidly on other projects, but keeping those three deadlines was important. Not just because the publications they are destined for are good markets, but because I said I would do it and because it’s unprofessional not to. Also I simply I hate to let people down. But I do wish I was more organised.

This could be seen as the downside of being a seat-of-the-pants writer.

If I am honest I suspect it’s the adrenalin surge (if such a thing can apply to writing) that gets the creative juices flowing. I like deadlines. They are my friend. I generally get things finished with a few minutes to spare and a big grin because I’ve beat the clock yet again. But I do wish I was more organised.

One day I shall be. I do try, honestly. Just that… I am just not organised.