Rediscoveries--The Writing Process: Time of Day

Many writers and writing coaches I know or have read say that morning is the best time to write. When I was in college, I used to stay up all night, writing into the wee hours of the morning but didn't get much done in full daylight. Partial cause was, indeed, procrastination and looming deadlines, I'll admit, but I also simply thought better at night; the flow of words and images was stronger and clearer. Maybe it was the silence, my roommates all asleep, outside traffic practically non-existent in our little residential neighborhood. Or maybe it was the assurance of no interruptions, the security of isolation in my basement chamber at a time of day when I knew no one would need me; no one would call.

Nineteen years later, I still write most easily late at night. Yes, maybe procrastination is still a factor (my NaPoWriMo emails have gone out after the midnight deadline two days in a row, now), but even that aside, night is still my favorite time to write. Great Scott! and the girls are asleep, and the house is a small one, so no housework can be done without waking them, thus I'm relieved of the obligation to attend to the practical household matters--the omnipresent bane of any sort of creative concentration I might attempt. No one calls. No distractions present themselves. The night is mine.

I've tried writing in the morning (i.e. Julia Cameron's The Artist's Way recommendation), but there is never enough time, and mornings demand a great deal of concentration as it is. There are two girls to get up and feed, errands for which to prepare, sometimes meetings to attend, and lots and lots and lots of things to remember. There are pressures and insanities in the morning, and while insanity may have inspired a great many writers, this one thinks it's highly overrated as literary motivation goes. Unless one is writing about large, overcooked oatmeal monsters, that is. Mornings are excellent motivation for large, overcooked oatmeal monster works. Angry large, overcooked oatmeal monsters. Angry, large overcooked oatmeal monsters who can't find their car keys and who have 8:30 a.m. appointments with the school speech pathologist. Oh, yeah.

One of the books I've been reading about organization (You! Yes, you! Quit your snickering!) advises its readers to consider what things they do that work well for them already and to build on those things rather than chucking everything out the window and trying to adopt someone else's system, whether that system be for time or environmental organization. Perhaps I need to stop trying to write on someone else's body clock, to stop feeling guilty for my wee hours production. Because, it's working: I'm four for four in rough draft turnout, a totally unheard of thing.

Pondering.