Wash on Gentle and Hang this Post to Dry
By Andrew Tibbetts
These days I have three jobs, plus I’m dating. This leaves me very little time to write. And since I write slowly- or, more to the point, rewrite interminably- this bodes poorly for my already sparse output. At the same time, I made a 2007 New Year’s resolution to submit some fiction to some print publication each month. Previously I’d be lucky to submit two pieces in a year. But I’m managing. How? By taking my laptop to the laundry room.
I have 28 minutes after I’ve put my clothes in the washer. I rout through the thousands of pieces I’ve started and abandoned. I settle on one that 1) doesn’t seem too bad after all and 2) is also almost done. By then it’s time to toss the wet things into the dryers. In doing laundry I enjoy the redisbursing of the loads most, grouping by colour for the wash stage but now grouping by heaviness for the drying stage. I try to find three washers across from three dryers and I perform a kind of Tom Cruiseish twirl and toss. Once that’s settled I have 50 minutes to rewrite. The pressure is its own motivation.
I do this every weekend, so each month I have four potential submissions. It’s a little humbling to think how much I could have gotten written if I’d applied the same work ethic to the days when I had a significant chunk of time to write. But maybe those days will come again and I can haul this new found practicality out of the dank laundry room into the endless hours in cafes where I used to dawdle. I smell a novel. Faintly. Off in the future. But right now, the socks need matching up. Au Revoir.
These days I have three jobs, plus I’m dating. This leaves me very little time to write. And since I write slowly- or, more to the point, rewrite interminably- this bodes poorly for my already sparse output. At the same time, I made a 2007 New Year’s resolution to submit some fiction to some print publication each month. Previously I’d be lucky to submit two pieces in a year. But I’m managing. How? By taking my laptop to the laundry room.
I have 28 minutes after I’ve put my clothes in the washer. I rout through the thousands of pieces I’ve started and abandoned. I settle on one that 1) doesn’t seem too bad after all and 2) is also almost done. By then it’s time to toss the wet things into the dryers. In doing laundry I enjoy the redisbursing of the loads most, grouping by colour for the wash stage but now grouping by heaviness for the drying stage. I try to find three washers across from three dryers and I perform a kind of Tom Cruiseish twirl and toss. Once that’s settled I have 50 minutes to rewrite. The pressure is its own motivation.
I do this every weekend, so each month I have four potential submissions. It’s a little humbling to think how much I could have gotten written if I’d applied the same work ethic to the days when I had a significant chunk of time to write. But maybe those days will come again and I can haul this new found practicality out of the dank laundry room into the endless hours in cafes where I used to dawdle. I smell a novel. Faintly. Off in the future. But right now, the socks need matching up. Au Revoir.
posted by Andrew Tibbetts | 8:47 am
7 Comments:
When can we publicly celebrate your most recent acceptance? Soon, I hope.
O-M-G, this is what I need to do.
Diane
The Maple Room
Your own Beautiful Launderette. You are nothing if not resourceful. I look forward to your Laundry Diaries.
The Laundry Diaries! Oh man, that is too perfect.
Andrew, I can relate to the "Why can't I get this much done when I have all the time in the world?" Structured time is a wonderful thing.
Doing your own writing laundry while you do the laundry. Brilliant!
Best of luck sorting Andrew! SOunds like you have a great plan there.
It takes me 30 minutes just to settle myself into writing. It's a great process; your discipline is impressive.
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