Before I had Z, I considered myself fairly productive. I finished the first draft of a novel, which seemed like a pretty big deal at the time. It took me about two years.
After Z, I finished another novel draft in one year. My third one took about six months or so.
Today, just finished the first draft of my fourth novel, and it took less then three months. (It’s really really short, and really really horrible, but that’s what revision is for.)
So what I’m wondering is, am I more productive with the writing because I know how fleeting free time is, so I don’t waste it? Or is it that I’m “growing up” finally, and getting a little more self-disciplined? Or am I a more effective writer, because of all the practice? Or all of those, or none?
And before you think I’m writing more because I’ve let housework fall by the wayside, no, I can assure you, I’ve always let housework fall by the wayside. (And I always will.) (Yes, that’s a promise.)
Does anyone else have experience with this – whether for you, or someone you know? More productive with kids, as unbelievable as it sounds?
Yesterday I hit an all-time productivity high. I tripled my page/word goal, managed to do the dishes, and even ran three errands before picking Z up at school and taking her to the park.
I bask in my super-awesomeness cape and matching lip gloss!
I was especially smug about the word count. Not wanting to brag to everyone in the whole world, I saved that info for Homes andKaty, both of whom were duly impressed. I was even contemplating a post for today on Parenting & Productivity, and how I get so much more work done after having Z than I’d ever dreamed of doing before Z. If only I knew what was in store for me.
This morning Homes and I received the 3 a.m. wake-up call. The kind that kept calling, and calling, and calling. “Daddy! Daddy! DAAAAADDDDDDDYYYY! Mommy Daddy! Mommydaddy Mommydaddy!” And then, once the caller was safely established in her cot, and the Ever-Suffering Mother and Homes safely in their Bed of Pain, the whining started.
To make a very long & painful story short, usually I sleep until 7, but today I was too pissed off.
I’ve been awake since 3:30.
On the bright side, I was able to accomplish these things, all before 7 a.m.:
wash the dishes
give Z breakfast
pick up Z’s toys that didn’t get picked up the night before (surprise)
On the very dark and sad side, there is no way I’ll triple my writing goal today. My eyes kept closing while I tried to reach my regular writing goal.