I used to be even more obsessed with time than I am now. I had no idea how people made time to do stuff, and I never felt like I had enough of it. And honestly, I still don’t. I don’t even think anyone has a real answer to this.
The best thing I’ve seen on this topic is short and sweet. It’s Twyla Tharp talking about reading amidst her rigorous dance schedule, which is described in the New York Times: “Proust requires commitment. Ask her how she finds the time to read, and she’ll tell you, ‘I hack it out of the marble of the day.’”
That’s me on this blog too. I’ve tried the other way—maintaining a rigorous content schedule, etc.—it just really doesn’t work for me. For starters it sucks all the fun out of writing, which then takes away the point. The whole goal is to have fun.
We all have pockets of time though, no matter how busy. In nonfiction writing: Insomnia, chores, conversations etc., enable our brains to form ideas, and jotting them down in a note somewhere and then choosing to publish it. That’s pretty much it.
It’s one of those tacit things that happen—like, oh, I’m hungry, I need a snack. Oh, I’ve got an interesting idea, I need to write it down. Or, oh, I don’t have anything scheduled, let’s see what I’ve noticed the past few days.
That’s the power of structure. We make our structures, and then our structures make us.
Oops, I just got another idea. I’ll have to write it down.