How to Know When You’re On the Wrong Track

My husband thinks I should name this post, “Nobody cares if the writer is really good at Excel.”  That will be more clear in a moment, but first I want to talk about what I’m good at– really really good at– and that’s starting new projects.  It’s what made my short ascent into the corporate world possible.  Give me slightest direction and I’m off and running.  Client needs a new solution for scanning documents into their information depository?  I’m there.  I have project plans, a team, a budget, milestones, executive steering committee, a communication plan, client buy-in and most likely a project moniker.  I would likely be a very good entrepreneur, if that’s what I wanted to do.  You see the thing is, this kind of work is exciting for all about a month, until I’m dragged down into the minutiae a year long project and all I want to do is blow the whole thing up.

I know this about myself.  That’s why it was possible to give it up.  That’s why I love writing.  Every single day, every word, every article, is completely different.  It doesn’t get easier, really.  It doesn’t become route.  I still have to think of an idea, execute it, and sweat over the rewrite.  I’m getting faster.  Maybe my prose is getting tighter.  But it’s still a challenge (the best possible kind) and for that I’m hopelessly addicted.

Except when I’m not.  You see, I have this nasty little habit of slipping back into my “business mode”.  It’s easy and comfortable.  This year I started a number of side projects, that were only tangentially related to writing.  A new blog, a travel index website, a website partnership, and others (and yes there were more).  Then suddenly it began to dawn on me.  I was avoiding the difficult work of building a traditional writing career, by focusing what I knew I could do easily:  build an online business.

My husband finds this hysterically funny that I would “realize” this, because he’s been harping on my Excel spreadsheet, project planning ways for months now.

But sometimes it’s really hard to recognize that you’ve gone off the rails a bit.  In hindsight, it’s easy to see now, all the signs were there.

I had an uneasy feeling. I was sure something wasn’t quite right, but I couldn’t decide what.

I was reluctant. I didn’t want dive too deeply into these projects, and I couldn’t shake that desire to procrastinate.

I felt like I had Deja-vu. What haven’t I don’t this before?  Isn’t this the same path that leads me to that place where I’m over committed and under fulfilled?

I was bothered because I felt like I was missing something. That idea on the tip of your tongue feeling haunted me, like I had a dream or a passing thought that I had forgotten, but I sensed was important.

I’d hide when things got rough with the writing.  What? This American Life, doesn’t want to publish my amazing, previously untold story about my time in Guatemala?  I spent FOREVER on that!  Ugh.  Time to analyze web stats!

I started making the excuses. I decided somewhere along the line that this new direction, would eventually free me up even more to focus on my writing.  Seriously?  More freed-up than say, oh I don’t know, being a full time writer?

I started to believe my own justifications.

I was procrastinating via redirection.  Instead of doing nothing, I was highly productive.  I spent an entire weekend trying to integrate a forum with a wordpress install.  Seriously, what exactly does this have to do with writing? Nothing.  Absolutely nothing, and I wrapped myself up in this and felt good for having accomplished something.

So I launched round two of National Travel Writing Month last week.  I need a kick in the butt as much as anyone.  I’m trimming away my committments.  I’m re-focused.  I’m a little scared.  Because unlike building a new website, if I work on writing articles for a month, I could very well have nothing to show for it, except a few dozen unanswered emails.  But the idea of hiding behind what’s safe and easy for a lifetime, well that’s just frightening.