Writing is difficult. I do it for a living and believe me, there’s no magic keyboard fairy dust to make it (alakazam!) any easier.
That’s why I keep putting it off.
Seriously, I’ve been procrastinating about this article for a week.
I’m not alone. One of my clients recently confessed that he’d put off writing his website content for 3 years. Three. Years!
Jeez.
Anyway, to be helpful, I’ve put together a copywriter’s guide to procrastination.
Clean the bathroom
Cleaning the bathroom is my go-to procrastination activity. With a mammoth writing project waiting to go, my bathroom sparkles like the Koh-i-Nor.
Is this as disastrous to productivity as it sounds?
Apparently not. Have you ever noticed that `aha moments’ come to you in the shower? Or walking the dog… Or in my case, wielding the Cillit Bang.
People cleverer than me — a bunch of neuroscientists, in fact — have explained why. Here `tis, the over-simplified version. If you’re a neuroscientist, look away now:
- Task Mode. When we’re actively trying to solve a problem, or searching for the perfect word, our brains are in Task Mode. We’re going at it full throttle with the frontal lobe. It’s not always the best way.
Why can’t I find that damned word? Gah! I’ll clean the bathroom (again).
- Default Mode. During mundane tasks, the brain gets to use its more abstract side. It’s called the Default Mode Network. Provided we’ve absorbed enough information during Task Mode, the answer appears by magic. From nowhere.
So there you go. The perfect word is elucidation.
Try to be brilliant
Perfectionism. It’s my favourite excuse for procrastination. The first draft has to be a sizzlingly delightful slice of wonderment.
It won’t be. Do you have any idea how long it took me to come up with `sizzlingly delightful slice of wonderment’? Don’t ask.
First drafts are rubbish.
“Just write words”, I tell myself. Any words. Put something on the page. Don’t worry if it’s a load of hogwash because you can go back over it later.
Yep, that’s the theory. And to be fair, I can’t improve words that aren’t there. The trouble is, I have to go against every instinct to write a first draft that is, frankly, terrible.
Most copywriters spend twice as long editing as writing. There’s a good reason for that. If we didn’t, we’d be out of a job quicker than you can say `word womble’.
One day, probably just before I retire, I’ll publish the first draft of a blog. You’ll see what I mean.
Clear the diary
You’d think, wouldn’t you, that clearing the diary would be a fabulous procrastination beater? With no distractions, surely I’d just get on with it.
Nope.
When it comes to productivity, a full diary is intravenous caffeine. Give me a plethora of looming deadlines and I’m on fire.
Here’s a rather lovely quote:
“When there is a great deal to put in it, a day has many pockets.” – Friedrich Nietzsche
Ooh get me, quoting Nietzsche. It’s true though, isn’t it? The busier we are, the less we faff around cleaning the bathroom.
Take a holiday
Do you know the trouble with holidays? The writing muscle gets all flabby. I am at my procrastinating worst just after a holiday.
It’s like I’ve forgotten how to write. What’s more, I’ve been on a beach with a really good book by a really good writer. How can I possibly compete?
It’s an excuse, of course. I conveniently forget that the writer has an entire team fighting her corner— including at least one editor and a proofreader.
Her first draft was probably twaddle.
Writing is like exercise. The more you do, the easier it becomes. With me, there’s only one way to get over the post-holiday writing droop:
Get back into the habit. I write anything to get the muscle moving again. It really doesn’t matter. Emails to friends, recipe ideas, a daily journal, thoughts on existentialism…
Just do it (all)
Let’s imagine I’m faced with the task of populating a 75-page website. Do I think: `Ooh goodie, loads of lovely work. I’ll knuckle down and get the whole thing done and dusted?’
No, I do not. Faced with such an enormous task, my procrastination would go into hyperdrive. I’d literally never get round to starting.
Instead, I set my kitchen timer.
Huh? Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. Boiling an egg is a great displacement activity.
OK, here’s the thing:
It’s simply not possible to write solidly, without stopping, all day. I defy anyone to do this. Your brain would explode. The keyboard would get messy.
That’s why I set the timer. I go like the clappers for 15 minutes, then stop for 5 minutes to get away from the desk and do something else. Boiling an egg, for instance.
After that, it’s time for another 15 minutes with my nose firmly glued to the grindstone. Then it’s another 5 minutes of staring into space, another 15 minutes of work… and so on.
It’s remarkably effective. I’ve been doing this for years, and only recently discovered that it has a fancy name: the Pomodoro technique. And guess what? It’s named after a kitchen timer.
Right, that’s it for now. I have work to do…. Actually, I’ll just check the bathroom.
