by Janis Patterson
While this might sound like some a totalitarian mantra
etched on the walls of some dictator's forced labor camp, it really isn't. It's a sign on
the bulletin board next to my desk. And while I admit to sometimes being a
minor-league martinet, I'm quite a ways away from full-blown dictator-dom.
Scary as it might sound, discipline really is freedom. I try
to adhere to a reasonable writing schedule - a minimum of 1,000 words a day (a
pathetically low number, I know) to be fulfilled at least 5 days a week. Most
days and weeks I do more, sometimes much more, but that 1K/5day goal is my
benchmark when I'm in writing mode. Editing, etc. is different.
Before I set up a minimum daily requirement, my writing
suffered as I am lamentably frivolous and light-minded. The lures of lunch with
friends, a night out with The Husband, some more remodeling of my office... any
and all temptations that aren't writing, to say nothing of the boring
necessities of life such as laundry, dusting, cooking, etc., would sing their
siren song to me and my production would inevitably decline, sometimes sharply.
"I can write tonight," I would say, then trot off
merrily for whatever. "I can catch up later." The only thing is, I
didn't. Sometimes days or even weeks would go by with only a paltry few hundred
words captured in pixels, and that just wouldn't do.
I am not by nature a disciplined person. I dally. I
shilly-shally. I am frivolous and easily distracted. But - I knew something had
to be done if I were to continue to regard myself as a professional novelist.
I don't know where the phrase 'Discipline is Freedom' came
from. Maybe unearthed from some unconscious awareness of reading about some
nasty time in human history - or maybe not. Maybe it was a gift from my abused
muse. Whatever it was, it suddenly appeared in my mind one day and I knew it
was true.
Now I work mightily to get at least my daily minimum done;
usually it is much more, for once the pump is primed the words keep flowing,
but even if they don't I have done my allotted ration. Once that is done, I can
do whatever else calls to me with a light heart. I can go to lunch or shopping
with a clear conscience, for the work has been done. I don't even feel
resentful of the necessary housework any more - at least, not for interfering
with my writing - because my book is progressing at a fairly stable pace.
Of course, nothing is perfect, and any system has to be
flexible. There are emergencies and unforeseen circumstances that blow any
schedule out of the water. Families have problems; mechanical things maniacally
break - usually two or three in a clump. There are wrecks and injuries and
illnesses; there are losses and the ones who remain must be comforted. There
are also joys, such as a quick visit from a friend now living overseas, or the
birth of a new baby in the family. That is called Life, and such events should always
supersede rigid schedules. Writing is not and should not be the end-all and
be-all; it is a job. An important and meaningful job, yes, but still a job.
Life and family should always come first.
The trick is that once the breach in your schedule has
happened and has passed, get back on the pony. Discipline yourself to begin once
again your self-imposed schedule, then when your minimum - or beyond - is
reached you can give yourself permission to go do other things and not feel
guilty. Such freedom is the gift of discipline.
Discipline is indeed freedom.
