In 2025, post lifequake, I had a business, I was finishing a Grad Dip in Information Management (Libraries), I launched a novel, I entered another in an unpublished manuscript prize (and took out second place!), wrote the second draft of a YA WIP, and wrote half of the first draft of another YA novel. I also was CEO of home with all that entails.
I had a lot of tabs open and my life had a lot of moving parts.
Last year, I wrote about how I go from a bright, sparkly idea through to a (relatively!) polished manuscript. If not polished, at least one step down, which would make it slightly burnished. I also wrote about keeping a writer’s notebook and tracking my output. One thing I haven’t written about is the actual nuts and bolts of how I stay on top of all the moving parts of writing life.
One thing you might not know about me is that I’m a sucker for routines and rituals. If I spent half the time over the past two decades actually writing, rather than reading (particularly this book) about how other people write , I reckon I’d have a decent backlist behind me, alas.
Here’s some writer routines that take up real estate in my mind:
- Hunter S Thompson woke at 3pm to a ‘breakfast’ of scotch chased with some cocaine
- Joan Didion spent most of the day conceptualising then started writing at 5pm
- Haruki Murakami woke at 4am, wrote for 6 hours, then ran 10km.
The only one that remotely appeals to me is the Murakami, but without the 4am start.
None of them talk about the actual day-to-day of being a writer beyond getting a book written. It’s this ‘stuff’ that keeps me on my colour-coded-calendar-loving toes. I’m talking things like:
- Events- both my own, as well as attending those of others
- PR
- Social media
- Editing
- Beta reading
- Providing endorsements
- Chasing competitions and opportunities
- Whatever else you can think of, and multiply it by seventeen.
It’s the most boring thing in the world, but the only way it gets done is by intention, and by organisation. It’s knowing when all those aforementioned moving parts need to happen, and what they actually are.
All my life, work, writing and family admin lives in Asana. If it’s not in Asana it doesn’t happen.
Primarily a project management tool (and there’s plenty out there, this is just the one that I’ve felt the best fit), it’s a place where I store all the stuff. I have boards for work, writing admin (comps and opportunities, author brand stuff like update my website, my social media strategy, chase up promo opportunities etc), life admin (eg make that vet appointment, organise birthday staff) and book/project specific boards with info such as finish first draft, organise beta readers, beta reader feedback etc.
If I have something I need to do, it goes up as an Asana task, with a date attached and then I get an email on its delivery date. I’ve always hated the expression: if you want something done, ask a busy woman, but I can’t deny that as a busy woman, I’m someone who gets stuff done. The mental load is not to be underestimated. It’s freaking real. But in my experience, having a dumping ground for the mental load that actually allows for it to be scheduled and taken care of, is a way to manage it, control it, rather than be controlled by it.
Gah, this is potentially the most boring thing I’ve ever written, but if it helps one writer who feels like they’re constantly dropping the ball, then I’m happy.