
by Pat Boddy
I was given an assignment for this newsletter: write about balancing work, family, and writing.
Ha.
My script screeched to a halt in May at page 75. What do I know? So I turned to our membership. The response was less than heartening.
“Balance? What balance?” asked Cyndi Mercati. “My life,” she said, “is completely unbalanced.” Steve Hakeman offered even less encouragement. He says when it comes to work, home and writing, you can only juggle two outta three:
“If you’re not earning your living writing, then you haven’t got time to pursue it with the selfishness it takes to succeed and still go to the kids’ ballgames and recitals or talk with your spouse over a cup of steaming herb tea after the evening news. Simple as that. Resign yourself to it, or be willing to live with the reality of pain, guilt and alimony. Life is full of neat choices, ain’t it?”
I had a choice. I could either find the elusive balance or tell the editor I was going to miss a deadline. Okay, so the latter’s been done before, but not happily. So, I pulled a key phrase from Hakeman’s statement and worked with it: “selfishness it takes to succeed.” I’d see if I could redefine success, become a little more selfish, and a writer-of-sorts.
Hakeman’s a top-notch, productive writer. I wanted to write like him and many of the other friends I respect and admire in the ISA. I’m slow so it took all this time to hit me: that’s not realistic. But I probably could do better than spend six months in suspended animation. I probably would not be profound or prolific, but I could make progress. That would be how I’d define success: line by line “progress.” And I’d be selfish. I’d snatch time for me and something I wanted to do.
It’s working. Over the last ten days (the deadline pressure was obviously an inspiration here), I’ve written four pages. Sounds pitiful to you real writers out there, I’m sure. But for a Swim-Team-Basketball-Karate-Dance-Piano Mom (whoever coined the grossly inaccurate Soccer Mom, anyway?), who owns her own small business and plays in a trio, I was thrilled. I’d tried other systems first, but this is the one that’s allowed me to arrive at page 79:
I kicked my kid off the computer and told her to go downstairs, set the table and start the water boiling. I’d be down in a minute. I spent five minutes writing. I got in one line of dialogue that I’d been thinking about since May. Whew. I copied the latest version of the 75-plus-two-lines pages and my sequence onto a disk. I printed out a copy, too. I filled a slim notebook with the sequence, script- so-far and blank paper. In the pocket, I put in pens and pencils. I put the notebook in the car and the disk in my bag. I finished cooking dinner.
The next day I loaded everything into the computer at work. I had my script with me everywhere - at home, at work, in the car. There would be no escape. From that point forward, I’ve been at it. I try to get ten minutes in while nuking dinner. 30 minutes would be much better (but not for the food). I make long-hand notes while one kid kicks up his heels and the other shifts from swim gear to dry land. I add one minute to every day at work to print out the latest page of the script and stick it in the notebook and keep my disk updated. So far, I’ve written something every day of the ten. I’m not claiming this balancing act is efficient, but it’s considerably more effective than the old “wait-until-you-get-a-chunk-of-time” system (I’ve been waiting since May).
In short, Steve and Cyndi are right. If you want to produce quality and quantity and still be able to work, shuttle kids, and befriend your spouse, forget it. But if you just want to eke out something over the long haul, and eventually massage it into shape, you probably can. Accept limitations, not excuses. Get easy access to what you need to write and don't compare yourself to the Hakemans and Mercatis of this world. Just be pleased when one line becomes two, and be proud to be in the company of others who can do more (and do it so well!). And maybe you'll come to the conclusion of ISA member Laura Walth who tells me: “I have found writing to BE the balance in my life.... When I can't find the time to write, I take the time.”