Writing Distractions

Oftentimes this blog is me writing advice to myself. I figure if I need to hear it, someone else might, too.

This week, I’m thinking a lot about distraction.

Probably because thinking about why I’m distracted is also distracting me from my writing.

It’s a vicious cycle, people.

But a cycle that I’m pretty sure isn’t unique to me.

This year, I have joined a daily online writing group. I log on to Zoom, have a moment of chit chat with the group, we state our goals for our writing time, then turn off our cameras (or leave them on for extra accountability) and write. I thought this might hold me more accountable to my creative writing time.

And it has. For the most part.

It gets my butt in the chair in the mornings when I am most creative. It forces me to open the document. It lights a fire under me to get something done before the host brings us all back together 90 minutes later. I know spending time on my creative writing in the morning makes me more focused in the afternoon.

All good things.

And yet…

I still find myself distracted.

If I forget to put my phone on Do Not Disturb, I will answer it. I still reach for Instagram or Facebook for no justifiably good reason. I stare at my word count tracker and wallow at how I’ll never make it to the end of this novel.

Let’s compare that to the afternoon when I work on coaching business. If I’m working on client feedback, I’m in the zone. Seriously, the time flies by. But when I’m working on the mini-course I’m building, forget it. Distraction city. I gave myself a deadline to complete it and have pushed that back several times.

So, what makes my client work so much easier to focus on? Why do I allow myself so many distractions on projects like my new manuscript and this mini-course? Both of which are things I’m actually really excited about?

What I’m discovering is that client work is easier to focus on because — and this may not be a surprise — it has an external deadline. If I don’t send clients back their feedback on their designated days, I have not only broken my promise and contract to them, but their call schedule is affected which has a domino effect on the rest of my schedule. 

Accountability is a strong motivator.

Setting deadlines for myself, while important, are easier to break or push back and justify with millions of excuses.

Emotions also play a role. When I’m working on client feedback, I’m in a zone of support and assistance. I’m curious and feel a sense of purpose. Despite how it might feel to receive it, I’m never judging my client’s work, more assessing and shining a light on places where they might find opportunities to strengthen their craft or story.

When I’m writing my own work, my Judgy McJudgerson voice can be loud. If I’m the driver, she’s that annoying backseat driver who has an opinion and complaint about everything: this scene is stupid, that character is flat, where are you even going with this story? It is super tempting to just let her take the wheel for a bit while I check out some Insta-stories to shut her up.

While creating the course, I am having to learn a lot of new technical things as well as build something from scratch that is not only informative but digestible and ready for writers to apply quickly. While I’m confident in the content and have client testimonials on how well this system works, there is still a voice that whispers “What do you know?”

In those moments? Distraction feels like relief. A nice dopamine hit of social media or pulling focus on a task that feels easier to accomplish is nice in the moment.

The problem?

It doesn’t last.

And I’m left feeling yucky about the choices I’ve made and how far behind I may be getting in my project.

So, what can I do about it?

First, I can recognize what’s happening. Allow myself to accept that I will be distracted because what I am working on is challenging and won’t be an easy fix.

Second, I can remind myself that’s exactly why I’m doing it. The easy stuff doesn’t make me proud the way that conquering those Canva slides does or hitting my word count goal for the week.

Third, I can give myself some grace when I slip. Just because I find myself on Instagram doesn’t mean that I have to stay there.I can put my phone in another room, install website blockers, take advantage of Scrivener focus mode, turn off my wifi, turn on Do Not Disturb on my devices, and try again. There is no limit on how many times you can try something.

Fourth, I can be honest about those struggles with others. Realizing we aren’t alone with these challenges is one of the best parts of the writing community. We all hit blocks and feel pulled down the research rabbit hole when we intended to be writing. It happens. Together we can laugh about it, commiserate, share tips, whatever. But pretending that I’m just chugging along generating manuscripts and mini courses and whatever else like it’s not work is a disservice to writers who may be thinking that if it’s hard, they must not be doing it right.

Newsflash, y’all — this stuff is hard.

Writing, creating this course, whatever, it’s hard because I’m putting myself out there to be judged and that can be terrifying. And terrifying is hard. But with the right support — this community, my writing date friends, my in real life friends, my family — I know I can learn to better navigate my distractions.

Distractions are the little detours are brains are taking us on thinking they are short cuts around the traffic when maybe we would have been best served to simply stay on the route we were on and wait a moment for the accident to clear.

There are no short cuts.

We have to get comfortable with being uncomfortable to do the work.

So this week, when you get distracted, take a moment to recognize it, acknowledge it, indulge it if you have to, then get back to work with no judgement on what that distraction says about you as a writer or creator.

Then try again.

I’ll be right there with you. 

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