Priorities
Dec. 2nd, 2008 02:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morrigirlIf you asked me to name the most important thing in my life I would answer without a moments hesitation: writing. That has been the answer for the last twenty years. That was the answer even during all those years I wasn't writing. That's the way it has always been - writing first, friends second, family third. Those are my priorities, for better or for worse. It's why I have no compunction about selling my friends out in a poem or using their qualities to decorate a fictional character. The caliber of the writing is more important to me than their comfort. It takes a pretty fearless person to be my friend these days because they really never know when I'm going to lift something from their life and twist it around to make it fit my literary goals. I've lost friends because of this tendency, but I don't feel bad about it because they were sacrifices made for the sake of priority number one. I will never feel guilty about anything done in order to reach my highest goal.
These days, I've got characters pounding at my skull, begging for attention, urging me to finish revising the story I'm currently working on so I can start telling others. I have people, people without names, and a cloudy image of the worlds they occupy. I can't remember the last time I had this, or if I've ever experienced it at all. I've taken to carrying an idea notebook around with me so I can jot down thoughts, images, and scraps of dialogue when they hit me. I don't know how many times over the last week I've stopped in the middle of work to scribble down the answer to some question I had about either the stuff I'm writing or the stuff I plan to write. I used to think writers who carried notebooks around were silly. I thought they should be able to keep everything in their heads. But, my brain is not quite as nimble as it used to be, and I have no idea how I'd keep track of all this stuff without a writing depository I could return to day after day.
With such noise in my head, all I want to do is write. I'm not always successful in bringing my desire to fruition, but it's all I think about, even when I'm sitting in front of my computer trying not to write. These people in my head want out. They want me focused and forever at work whether typing, jotting notes, or just ruminating on an idea. And, honestly? That's what I want, too.
For the first time in my life I think I really understand what it means to hold writing as my top priority. It means neglect. The list of people to whom I owe phone calls, emails or even just dingy little Facebook messages grows longer each day. I owe Heather F., Gemma, and Tina phone calls. I owe Elisabeth and Monica outings. I've lost count of how many people I owe emails. I can't muster the energy to stay in touch because all that energy is going towards writing. I don't want to talk on the phone, or go out to dinner, or tell anyone how I'm doing. It's nothing personal, I just want to focus on writing right now and that means my friendships have to take a backseat. That's new. Back when I was in school and not working eight hours a day, I had the time to write and maintain friendships. But this combination of work, geographical distance, time changes, and exhaustion is not conducive to maintaining friendships.
Greg is one of the few people who actually gets to talk to me on a regular basis. He has carved out a place for himself on my list of priorities somewhere between writing and friends. This is a new development, as well. I usually lump significant others and lovers into the friend category. But, somewhere along the line Greg became his own category. I don't know when or how it happened. All I know is I need to talk to and see him more often than I need to interact with anyone else. I've always berated my friends for putting their significant others first above friends and family. I guess I'm beginning to understand why. I'm not really comfortable or happy with it, but I'm beginning to understand. Matt is the other person who gets to talk to me on a regular basis, mainly because he's so persistent in calling that I have no choice but to talk to him. When Matt wants to talk, he wants to talk NOW and will stop at nothing until he gets me on the phone. That's what it takes to grab my ear these days, single-minded determination.
I feel bad about neglecting my friends, but I have to do it. I feel that in my gut, hear it in the stories that float through my head. For the first time ever priority number one is demanding my attention and I can't ignore her. If I need to sacrifice a lamb or two to appease her I'll fucking do it because she takes precedence. I've never equated writing with sacrifice, but I suppose you sacrifice something, be it time, work, leisure, or peace of mind, when you engage in any activity. In doing one thing you actively choose not to do another. There is no way around that. So, while I'm sure I will eventually get on the phone and go out to dinner and write emails, it won't be today, tomorrow, or next week.
These days, I've got characters pounding at my skull, begging for attention, urging me to finish revising the story I'm currently working on so I can start telling others. I have people, people without names, and a cloudy image of the worlds they occupy. I can't remember the last time I had this, or if I've ever experienced it at all. I've taken to carrying an idea notebook around with me so I can jot down thoughts, images, and scraps of dialogue when they hit me. I don't know how many times over the last week I've stopped in the middle of work to scribble down the answer to some question I had about either the stuff I'm writing or the stuff I plan to write. I used to think writers who carried notebooks around were silly. I thought they should be able to keep everything in their heads. But, my brain is not quite as nimble as it used to be, and I have no idea how I'd keep track of all this stuff without a writing depository I could return to day after day.
With such noise in my head, all I want to do is write. I'm not always successful in bringing my desire to fruition, but it's all I think about, even when I'm sitting in front of my computer trying not to write. These people in my head want out. They want me focused and forever at work whether typing, jotting notes, or just ruminating on an idea. And, honestly? That's what I want, too.
For the first time in my life I think I really understand what it means to hold writing as my top priority. It means neglect. The list of people to whom I owe phone calls, emails or even just dingy little Facebook messages grows longer each day. I owe Heather F., Gemma, and Tina phone calls. I owe Elisabeth and Monica outings. I've lost count of how many people I owe emails. I can't muster the energy to stay in touch because all that energy is going towards writing. I don't want to talk on the phone, or go out to dinner, or tell anyone how I'm doing. It's nothing personal, I just want to focus on writing right now and that means my friendships have to take a backseat. That's new. Back when I was in school and not working eight hours a day, I had the time to write and maintain friendships. But this combination of work, geographical distance, time changes, and exhaustion is not conducive to maintaining friendships.
Greg is one of the few people who actually gets to talk to me on a regular basis. He has carved out a place for himself on my list of priorities somewhere between writing and friends. This is a new development, as well. I usually lump significant others and lovers into the friend category. But, somewhere along the line Greg became his own category. I don't know when or how it happened. All I know is I need to talk to and see him more often than I need to interact with anyone else. I've always berated my friends for putting their significant others first above friends and family. I guess I'm beginning to understand why. I'm not really comfortable or happy with it, but I'm beginning to understand. Matt is the other person who gets to talk to me on a regular basis, mainly because he's so persistent in calling that I have no choice but to talk to him. When Matt wants to talk, he wants to talk NOW and will stop at nothing until he gets me on the phone. That's what it takes to grab my ear these days, single-minded determination.
I feel bad about neglecting my friends, but I have to do it. I feel that in my gut, hear it in the stories that float through my head. For the first time ever priority number one is demanding my attention and I can't ignore her. If I need to sacrifice a lamb or two to appease her I'll fucking do it because she takes precedence. I've never equated writing with sacrifice, but I suppose you sacrifice something, be it time, work, leisure, or peace of mind, when you engage in any activity. In doing one thing you actively choose not to do another. There is no way around that. So, while I'm sure I will eventually get on the phone and go out to dinner and write emails, it won't be today, tomorrow, or next week.
