no more keeping time

I started working on my novel six years ago in January.

I’ve always kept track of my hours. Initially, it was because I had weekly hourly goals for my writing group. By the time that group disbanded, two years later, it was habit. I have an exact hour count for each of those six years.

To date, I have logged 1,434 hours on my book. That is equivalent to working an eight hour day, every day for six months. Or maybe more realistically, a four hour day, every day for one year. So in terms of how far along I am in accordance with the number of hours worked, I appear to be right on schedule.

There’s something I like about knowing this. I think it would be dandy to finish, have a published book in hand, and know exactly how long it took to write it.

And the perfectionist side of me hasn’t wanted to let go of this possibility, hasn’t wanted to stop counting those hours. I mean, I’ve done it for such a long time already. I’m so close…

But the reality is that keeping time is extremely limiting! You heard me, extremely limiting. I do not advise it at all.

On the one hand, it’s a good way of making sure you visit your project for a certain amount of time each day or week or month or year. It can keep you honest. And there’s no doubt that if you work, you will make progress.

However – it means that every time you go to write, you have to look at the clock. You have to look at the clock when you stop. You have to write it down. And you have to do it again the next time, and the next. This can get tiring.

I keep track in one hour blocks but I can note half hour blocks and fifteen minute blocks as well. So, what happens if I want to just grab my manuscript and sit down for five minutes? Well, that would be a royal pain in the butt in terms of keeping track… so, I don’t do it.

I don’t bring my work with me to the laundromat because there would be too many distractions, too much stopping and starting. I don’t think about the book when I’m driving in the car (which I do a LOT of) because I’m not on the clock. If I have five minutes before work, I don’t sit down and read through the scene I wrote yesterday. And if I wake up in the morning, I don’t roll over in bed with my yellow pad and scribble a few lines down… Because how do you document that?

You can see how this requirement of keeping time might hinder the process of actually getting the book done.

I don’t do it with my other projects, with the picture books or the flash fiction or the blog. I will not do it with my upcoming novel projects, with Mira or Miguel or with Jessie and her marbles. No way. I don’t watch the time when I do agent research or read books in my genre, or when I go to the library or the book store to see what’s out there, or to readings to hear authors. Nope.

So, the other day, I had a realization. I just have to stop.

And I did. I have.

I recycled the notebook where I write down my hours. It’s the old one, the one I started with back in January of 2005 when I had my first writing group. I kept the cover, put it in the art cabinet. It’s orange plastic and I think I can make a cool frame out of it some day.

But the rest is gone. Except for the total number of hours which will be recorded here for posterity, it’s all gone. And I feel liberated. Yesterday I worked on the book several times, here and there. I couldn’t tell you for how long. But that doesn’t matter. All that matters now is going forward, gettin’ her done.

Because of this change in my work habits, I will no longer be able to make weekly hourly goals. Oh well. You understand.

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