this week in the life of a writer

the first week of april

Another month, new writing goals. Or continuation of the same writing goals. I’m still working away on my first draft of my first novel. I’ve decided to go back to a word count goal for April, to try and hit 50,000 words on this draft by the end of the month.

I was tired this week. Like that sort of bone deep kind of tiredness that makes you annoyed at everyone and the world. The kind of tiredness linked to PMS and periods and female hormones. The sort that’s hard to do anything about. The only thing that helped was lots of just sitting and being. I noticed this week that I really needed a lot less noise in my life, less Instagram and social media. More time spent staring into the distance and letting my thoughts settle.

Speaking of thoughts, here’s a few from this week in the life of a writer.

Monday

I get this sometimes. This bone-deep tiredness as a part of PMS. I always know when it’s PMS because theres an undercurrent of annoyance. The extractor fan over the hob annoys me. The instructions from the pilates instructor annoy me. Little sounds I don’t normal notice. Being asked to get off the couch. Anyone asking anything of me.

In the writing group chat, one friend asks if anyone might be free for more writing later in the week and I take that as my excuse to skip writing group on this particular Monday morning.

Instead, I make a cup of tea and sit down at my desk by 9.30. The act of sitting down to my desk at the same time most days helps with the whole productivity thing. I’m surprised every time. This time, I sift through my outline for the next section of my book and patch a few things up.

Tuesday

This is a week that I struggle to get through. PMS is draining all the energy out of my bones. The spring sunshine has outstayed its welcome. Sometimes, I think I might just be a vampire. There’s a weird mental clouding over that happens to me in the sunshine. I’m fond of it in very small doses. Standing at a light, waiting for safety to cross the street, my sunglasses aren’t enough. The sun feels like it’s burning away my soul. Taking every thought out of my head and leaving me unable to string a coherent thought together.

I go for a walk. Do the grocery shopping. Work on the first draft of my first novel. Do writing admin tasks. Apply for more day jobs.

A midweek date night because we needed to use up the last of the buttermilk. Buttermilk chicken. Garlic bread. The leftover wine from the weekend. Chocolate lava cake. The pleasant long stretch of the evening. It all leaves me feeling better. More like a whole person.

Wednesday

It’s a tired week. I mean to do a pilates workout before I leave the house. Sitting on the couch with my coffee, I watch the minutes tick down. If I start the YouTube video now, roll out my mat, I’ll have just enough time to take a shower and put on makeup before I have to leave. I keep watching the minutes tick down. I decide to skip the pilates and just go shower and leave. I’m still late to meet a friend at the coffee shop for a morning of writing, our substitute for the usual writing group meetup on Monday.

It’s a good morning. I write 1,000 new words on my novel. I plan out the non-novel writing for the month. (Mostly. I still haven’t decided on a new short story idea to turn into a rough draft of a story.)

After the coffee shop, I run errands. Pick up the new book club book from Waterstone’s. We’re reading I Who Have Never Known Men for April. I take my bag of empty makeup and skincare to Boot’s, recycle it, buy more skincare and make up. I pick up my library holds — Cory Doctorow’s Radicalized and Oisín McKenna’s Evenings and Weekends. I really need to finish Intermezzo and Private Rites and get them back to the library.

I hang around the, working on non-writing related tasks. It’s one of the nicest days so far this year. We’ve decided to have summer in April. We only get one precious week of it a year, better make the most of it.

Thursday

I get out for a morning walk for the first time all week and it’s a perfect morning. Just slightly warm, clear skies and soft early morning light.

The daytime is filled with more novel writing. In the evening, I head into town. The first Thursday of the month, the art galleries are open late. I stroll through one with a glass of free wine and savor some incredible abstract paintings by a local artist. Then it’s off to book club, and after a pint with friends.

Friday

Two days in a row, I leave for a morning walk. This one is less inspiring, the day is slightly chilly and gray. The park is filled to the brim with dogs and their walkers, more a source of annoyance than pleasure on a day like today. Dog walkers in this particular park like to give me weird looks as I make my own lap around the little patch of grass and trees. Like I don’t have a good reason to be there without the excuse of a dog.

But I go for my walk, arrive back home tired, make tea, sit down at my desk.

I write another one thousand words on my novel. Edit and schedule the “week in the life” reel for tomorrow. Make some notes for the short story I plan to edit this month.

The sun is starting to come out. It looks like it’s going to be a nice day.