Warning: Stream of consciousness ramble ahead.
I think a lot about how I spend my time, and how much of that time I should be spending on creative work or other things that move me closer to my goals. I used to think of this as a simple equation: the more time I devoted to creative work, the more I’d get done…though this led to more than a few cases of terrible burnout that weren’t productive at all (which sucks, btw).
That led me to alter my thinking: maybe taking plenty of breaks was the way to go, because if I stayed as rested and stress-free as possible then my mind would be clearer to focus on my writing and other tasks that required focus. I went through a period when I set aside every Saturday as a No Exceptions Day of Rest, and another period when I didn’t work on weekends at all because I wanted more time to read, see friends, and do all the other things I wanted to do (e.g. board games and NES).
However, this didn’t go well either because I soon realized that I wasn’t making the progress I wanted to on the things I wanted to, and not doing any work on the weekends threw me into a restless lethargy that left me feeling discouraged and aimless, like I was just kind of floating in a world of Mega Man and Splendor, and that didn’t feel good either.
Eventually I got better at striking the balance between work and everything else, but I still don’t have as much time as I’d like, and as a result, sometimes when I take trips or see friends or sleep until eleven o’clock or go to family gatherings I start feeling guilty, like I shouldn’t be doing those things when my novel isn’t finished and I haven’t posted my weekly blog entry and my car needs new brakes and I’ve got a stack of queries for my Japan novel that need sending.
I usually feel this way when I’m doing something I’d rather not be doing (e.g., stuck in a boring conversation with my downstairs neighbor), but sometimes I feel this way when I’m doing something fun—and that’s where things get confusing.
You Can’t Have It All (or at least I can’t…)
Juggling a Day Job and creative work is a lot—they’re both things that are designed to occupy the majority of your time, so doing both leaves you with basically zero time for anything else. There’s very little margin for error when you live that kind of life.
When I’m low on money, every little bit counts: I start cutting costs by buying store-brand salad dressing and avoiding unnecessary car trips, and I put off spending money on shit I don’t need because I want to make sure I get the best use out of the limited money I do have.
Being short on time is the same way—you can’t waste it doing things you don’t really want to be doing.
But the second, less obvious part is that you also can’t spend too much time doing things that you really do want to be doing but that aren’t related to your creative work. You have to forego those things because the creative work has to come first—or else it won’t get done.
This means that you have to spend a lot of nights working at home alone, like I’m doing right now. It means that you can’t develop all the hobbies or fun weekend things like Mega Man or Splendor that you’d like to do because the creative work has to take priority. And it also means you often don’t get to spend the time you want to with the people you care about, which can be really hard.
I once saw an interview with animator Don Hertzfeldt where he talked about how if you wanted to reach your goals you had to be the guy working at home on a Friday night doing the work that you wanted to do. You had to trade your fun time for the work you loved.
To use a more well-known reference, I always remember that scene in Cool Runnings where John Candy singles out the bobsled driver as the member of the team who has to work harder than anyone and remain 100% focused at all times. When his teammates are all out drinking beers, he’s up in his room studying pictures of turns. (The scene still holds up, so check it out if you’re looking for inspiration.)
If you want to work in the creative world, you have to be the bobsled driver. You have to separate yourself from the rest of the team while they’re off living their lives because the work you care about is more important.
These are the big sacrifices, and they’re going to look a little different for everyone.
I’ve sacrificed a lot of time over the years…but there were also a lot of times when I didn’t, and when I went out drinking both literal and metaphorical beers with the rest of the team instead of studying those turns. I think about some of those times now and feel regret, and I wonder whether I’d be farther along now if I’d made more sacrifices.
I realize that the fun times I’ve had have meant a lot to me, and they’ve made a tremendous impact on my development as a person (and a writer!). In a lot of ways I don’t regret those times at all—but in moving forward, we’ve all got a lot of difficult choices to make.
Not being able to live the same life as other people sucks, but when I consider the alternatives I feel better knowing that I’m choosing the life I want and that I’m putting what I really want to do first. If I could have it all, I would, but because I can’t, I have to place what I really want at the top.
Going after the creative life isn’t easy.
If it was, it wouldn’t be any fun.
If you’re looking for more inspiration to keep you going on your own creative quest, then keep in touch—Like But I Also Have a Day Job on Facebook, join my occasional mailing list, or hell, just drop me a line.