Will You Play Beat the Clock or Learn to Clock Your Beat?--Reb MacRath
Sooner or later, most of us come to the crosshairs of Time: We've fallen short of our deadlines and dreams of fame, success, wealth, acclaim, true love, and six-pack abs. Now, in our fifties or later, the pressure's on to Beat the Clock: write more books, attend more cons, hustle online for more hours each day, grovel still more shameles8sly for that promotion at work/that award...
What else are you to do with younger rivals nipping at your heels and older pros passing on the shit they've had dumped on their heads while your timelines grows shorter and shorter?
All these glum thoughts plagued me five months after moving to Tucson, where I'd planned to soar, reborn from the ashes I'd left behind me in Seattle.
Instead, I found myself in the crosshairs, hobbled by a knee injury, unable to get around the town as well as I'd hoped, trapped in a job that was wrong in most ways, and drifting further by the day from the drudgery of transcribing my drafted Work in Progress. Why bother, after all, etc, etc., etc.? Wasn't I better off surrendering to the least practical passion on earth: studying and translating Latin?
But, lo, crushed between the crosshairs, a cool and interesting thing occurred: as I often do, I played with words and thought about Clocking my Beat. Well, of course, I had to wonder what the devil that meant. I began with the word 'beat': the regular route walked by a foot patrolman. His job, and perhaps his life, depend on his knowing it well...and his commitment to mastering his turf.
But what exactly is my beat as a hobbled older writer eluded so far by commercial success...a stranger in a great city that's tough to get around in...an older man with a passion for a long-dead language...a student at an age when all teachers have retired?
When I thought of these things not as curses but as components of my Beat--a unique path that I have been assigned to travel--I felt my spirit come to life. The next step, though, is critical:
Now I need to Clock my Beat.
Now that I've defined my Beat, I need a daily schedule that advances my twin sides: the writer and the Latin student. (3-4 hours per day for both.)
I need to be far more aggressive with the personal injury attorneys who've stalled for three years on what should have been a slam dunk auto injury. Any settlement would finance promotion of my work. (First emails week of January 16.)
I need to apply for remote proofreading work, perfect Profile and redo resume. (End of January);
I need to overcome my fear of starting a new mystery series when I finish the WIP. (Fall 2023)
Visit Classics Dept at Univrersity of Arizona with copies of my Latin translation and new business card. (End of March 2023)
And on. There's no way, I know, of escaping all forms of Beat the Clock. But my sights are firmly set on mastering Clocking my Beat.
This is my report.
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Comments
Bon courage, my friend. Your stamina (and output) are staggering.
Philosophically yours, from Peter