I’ve been trying, as best as I’m able, to make the early morning the time when I sit down and do the couch to 80k writing boot camp (it’s a 20 minute podcast, with 10 minutes set aside for a writing exercise). I tend to go to bed late though, so it’s not always that easy to get up – and then we have kids, so there’s a certain mania in the morning. The best time has been to get up with my wife (an early riser) and before the kids are awake.
Monday’s are the only day that is -theoretically entirely mine for working – Annette does the kids in the morning, and then she’s off doing her thing. (She works Tue/Wed/Thur and is studying so attends classes on Friday).
SO I figured I’d get a chance to get some work done. I tried one other time to set up and work in the living room, but soon discovered the TV blaring behind me (as I sat at the table with my back to it) wasn’t as relaxing as one might hope. So I quickly scooted out to do the 10 minutes of writing that Ct80k requires. This morning though, I closed my studio door, sat down and started working – with the door closed the kids outside it were muted and easy to ignore (we’re in a flat so there’s no upstairs/downstairs, just one floor with my studio room being right in the middle).
Right in the middle of the 10 minute writing exercise, my wife scoots her head in and asks me to do one of the boys breakfasts. And to be honest, I wasn’t terribly prepared for how the flow of work would be interrupted. As a working artist, spending hours on a single page you get used to stopping and starting – it’s awful, but after a while it’s the norm, so you pick up and put down fairly easily (don’t get me wrong, it always makes things take a lot longer or become impossible). I suspect knowing I had only 10 minutes though made the interruption way worse than it should have been. Today’s exercise was to write a bunch of physical descriptions (though I’m not entirely convinced that’s exactly what I did) but once the interruption happened it was just … bluerch.
So what I’m saying: let your loved ones know you need 20 minutes, tell them (my mistake was just retreating into my room to work).
As for the exercise itself, I tried to be a little too clever I think – and ended up not even 100% sure if what I did was what was asked. Oh well, it was just an exercise.