The Work Ethic

This time last week I had just arrived back at my flat after a three-week absence, and I was dog-tired. The final week of those three had been spent in Dublin, at Worldcon, and was packed full of new ideas, new people, and various confidence-boosting activities; it had left me riding high on a wave of excitement about writing. I felt as though my elevated state could carry me over any obstacle or adversity.

Of course, as an armchair scientist of some thirty plus years, I know that kinetic energy doesn’t persist indefinitely in a system containing friction. And I don’t think I need to highlight just how much friction is currently burning our world – not to mention our forests. I might have made it to Monday unscathed, but the combination of the usual stream of muddy news items flowing through the Twittersphere, along with my own bad luck in having picked up some virus at Worldcon (unusual for me, as I generally don’t fall prey to such things), knocked me out the moment I’d unpacked.

I was supposed to go to work the next day, after which I’d be away for four days at a festival in the Ashdown Forest (home to Winnie the Pooh, among other things). Of course, it didn’t happen. I didn’t get to my age (42 in base 13…) without knowing when to step back and get some rest, and it seemed this was the moment. I cancelled the festival trip, took Thursday off work sick, and spent a couple of days doing nothing but rest.

It wasn’t long before the Muse was bashing on my door, demanding to see me. She can be annoyingly tenacious sometimes. So of course, I had to let her in. I figured, while I’m not doing anything else, I should get on with my book. She seemed to be in a good mood, and I got chapter two done at last, ready for my editor. And I turned to chapter three.

Then, an interesting thing happened. I got an email back from the editor, telling me that she was almost fully booked up until March – and I had a decision to make. The thing about my book is that it has an unusual structure that makes it hard to edit all at once. Because the first nine chapters are essentially disparate stories in a variety of genres, and because chapter ten involves bringing all the main characters from these stories together, I have been resisting even drafting chapter ten until I’m sure who these people are, and what they want. This means waiting until the first nine chapters are edited and ready. It would be awful to write a complicated plot for chapter ten involving these nine characters, only to discover that one of them had to be someone completely different because their own story chapter wasn’t working and must be re-written. You see the problem. So, I got a little worried at the news. If I’d had to wait until March before finishing the book, would I still have the passion and momentum that has carried me this far?

It was at this point that I made a decision. I asked my editor how soon we could finish all nine chapters. I didn’t make this decision lightly, because I have a very busy couple of months ahead of me! There’s work, parenting, and generally managing life – but in addition, I have booked myself onto a course in climate science in September. And then there’s the flat to tidy up, stuff to sell, the apocalypse bunker to stock with water and dried goods… you know the sort of thing. The usual 2019 stuff. Would I be able to fit in the final revisions of all of the remaining seven chapters in whatever time was available? I hoped so. But more than that, I told myself I would.

I don’t often use the term ‘work ethic’, but it’s entirely applicable in this case. No matter how busy I think I am, I can usually recall several evenings in the past week when I’ve watched a DVD, or got lost in the YouTube labyrinth. This is time that could be spent doing other things… working for myself. And when I say ‘for myself’, I actually mean ‘for my future self’. When we avoid procrastination and get something done, we’re literally working for the sake of our future self. And – I ask you – is there anyone more worthy? That’s for each of us to decide, but I’m hoping you consider yourself at least worthy of some hard graft by your antecedent consciousness.

As an aside: I consider past and future versions of me to be literally different people – I find it helps in two distinct ways. First, it can assuage any excessive guilt over past mistakes; second, it helps remove pressure to become someone you can’t imagine becoming: you can instead simply nurture your present self, and watch as it grows into your future self effortlessly. Well, that’s the theory, at least.

So, my editor got back to me and gave me a schedule that takes us to the final edit on all nine chapters by the middle of November. My reaction to this was elation, mixed with dread. Of course I was pleased that I might be able to spend the winter finishing my book, but I also knew how much work this would bring me.

I said yes. The reason is simple: I knew that my post-con Blues was like being stuck in mud. And the way to get out of mud is to pull your feet up and then keep moving.

I wish you all a mud-free September. I’ll report back soon with more news of how it’s all going. Right now, I have a chapter to revise!