I learned a new term the other day. ‘Kin keeping.’ For those of you not in the know, apparently this is anything from remembering (and doing something about) birthdays other than that of your immediate family nucleus to tying up lunchboxes in pretty ways with notes in them. Phoning people, keeping in touch, hosting parties that (it seems) you don’t really want but feel obliged to throw. Here’s an article.
This particular article is interesting because it unwittingly demonstrates within its own writing the attitude many have towards this concept.
It is unclear whether the people carrying out the tasks (women, in this case) want to stop doing this work, or simply want more recognition. It seems illogical that you would want to keep sending Aunt Maude thank-you notes for the hand-knitted sweaters you don’t really like. If you’re not thankful, don’t send the note, and perhaps she’ll stop sending sweaters. Besides, it’s insincere. If you’re thankful then writing the note should be a pleasure.
Here’s another short article which touches on the benefits of kin keeping. The benefits are apparently that other people get to enjoy things, or feel included and valued. Not the kin keeper.
Now this doesn’t make much sense. Sending Grandma a birthday present in the name of her son when he has no idea what’s going on and cares less about Grandma’s birthday than where his next meal is coming from, is deceiving both Grandma and her son. If he doesn’t care, shouldn’t she know he doesn’t care? Or is the cover-up an act of family bonding that shores up fragments against ruin? Heaping resentment on the two ignorant parties seems the icing on the tip of the illogicality cake.
Why does this have anything to do with the world of writing?
Writers constantly bemoan their lack of time. If I had 48 hours to each day I wouldn’t come close to performing all the tasks I’d like to. And I don’t even have a day job to keep me in tea and toast. Lack of time (in writers) is chiefly ascribed to two factors:
If we’re frightfully honest, procrastination is frequently at the bottom of the ‘too busy’ issue. Sure, you’re too busy peeling potatoes for the family’s favourite mashed potato and home-made meat pie to type out that story. But suppose you didn’t make the pie. Suppose you sit and type first, and do the pie later if you have the time. Perhaps someone else could make it. Or they could eat something different. Maybe they’ll appreciate the pie more when you eventually have the time to bake it. If you’re looking for appreciation, perhaps they’ll be more impressed with your story getting into print than they would with a pie. Perhaps they won’t. But at least you’ll have your story done.
Another way of saying this is: prioritize. What is the most important thing? If it’s playing with your kids, keep that as a priority. If it’s the vegetable garden, tend that. And if it’s writing, do the writing first.
Ah but you say, I have to. It’s true, we complicate our lives in all sorts of ways. Time-pressed writers have to assess what really matters to them and gradually streamline their lifestyle to accommodate top-priorities only. Other items, be it family functions, birthdays, clean houses, mowed lawns, taxi duties – all these get assessed and possibly jettisoned. You can’t sail a boat with all that cargo and act surprised when it gets swamped. It’s doomed to failure.
One tactic that many successful and prolific writers employ is stunningly simple. Office hours. Almost always in the morning. No distractions, no interruptions. Not if someone’s having a heart attack. Someone else can deal with it.
I’ve tried this occasionally and it works like a magic wand. Not only that, but by definition it elevates your writing to Top Priority status. Psychologically that sends the message to you (and probably to your significant others) that it matters. It has value. This leads to better writing, as your focus increases for this ‘important’ task. This leads to more motivation. Leads to easier prioritization.
So what’s stopped me from carrying on this routine ad infinitum? I would say ‘guilt’. At ignoring the needs of others. But dig deeper and it’s probably not entirely the case. Are we really concerned, or are we using the excuse to slack off our writing? Does it coincide with a difficult patch? A sluggish moment in our imagination? If this is the case, the answer is certainly to slog it out. Keep fingers to keyboard and if you’re worth your salt, something will come. You’ll never get back to peak form if you quit every time the going gets tough, and you’ll certainly never get better.
The situation is no different from physical training and performance. All those sports brands exhortations to ‘just do it’? They were actually talking about writing.
This particular article is interesting because it unwittingly demonstrates within its own writing the attitude many have towards this concept.
- Men are ‘bad’ at it, women are ‘good’.
- Men are (therefore?) not expected to do it. Women are.
- It is an onerous task, and largely ‘unrewarded’. The tasked women feel put-upon.
- The tasks in question are seemingly social and enjoyable, but are actually a burden.
It is unclear whether the people carrying out the tasks (women, in this case) want to stop doing this work, or simply want more recognition. It seems illogical that you would want to keep sending Aunt Maude thank-you notes for the hand-knitted sweaters you don’t really like. If you’re not thankful, don’t send the note, and perhaps she’ll stop sending sweaters. Besides, it’s insincere. If you’re thankful then writing the note should be a pleasure.
Here’s another short article which touches on the benefits of kin keeping. The benefits are apparently that other people get to enjoy things, or feel included and valued. Not the kin keeper.
Now this doesn’t make much sense. Sending Grandma a birthday present in the name of her son when he has no idea what’s going on and cares less about Grandma’s birthday than where his next meal is coming from, is deceiving both Grandma and her son. If he doesn’t care, shouldn’t she know he doesn’t care? Or is the cover-up an act of family bonding that shores up fragments against ruin? Heaping resentment on the two ignorant parties seems the icing on the tip of the illogicality cake.
Why does this have anything to do with the world of writing?
Writers constantly bemoan their lack of time. If I had 48 hours to each day I wouldn’t come close to performing all the tasks I’d like to. And I don’t even have a day job to keep me in tea and toast. Lack of time (in writers) is chiefly ascribed to two factors:
- Too busy
- Procrastination
If we’re frightfully honest, procrastination is frequently at the bottom of the ‘too busy’ issue. Sure, you’re too busy peeling potatoes for the family’s favourite mashed potato and home-made meat pie to type out that story. But suppose you didn’t make the pie. Suppose you sit and type first, and do the pie later if you have the time. Perhaps someone else could make it. Or they could eat something different. Maybe they’ll appreciate the pie more when you eventually have the time to bake it. If you’re looking for appreciation, perhaps they’ll be more impressed with your story getting into print than they would with a pie. Perhaps they won’t. But at least you’ll have your story done.
Another way of saying this is: prioritize. What is the most important thing? If it’s playing with your kids, keep that as a priority. If it’s the vegetable garden, tend that. And if it’s writing, do the writing first.
Ah but you say, I have to. It’s true, we complicate our lives in all sorts of ways. Time-pressed writers have to assess what really matters to them and gradually streamline their lifestyle to accommodate top-priorities only. Other items, be it family functions, birthdays, clean houses, mowed lawns, taxi duties – all these get assessed and possibly jettisoned. You can’t sail a boat with all that cargo and act surprised when it gets swamped. It’s doomed to failure.
One tactic that many successful and prolific writers employ is stunningly simple. Office hours. Almost always in the morning. No distractions, no interruptions. Not if someone’s having a heart attack. Someone else can deal with it.
I’ve tried this occasionally and it works like a magic wand. Not only that, but by definition it elevates your writing to Top Priority status. Psychologically that sends the message to you (and probably to your significant others) that it matters. It has value. This leads to better writing, as your focus increases for this ‘important’ task. This leads to more motivation. Leads to easier prioritization.
So what’s stopped me from carrying on this routine ad infinitum? I would say ‘guilt’. At ignoring the needs of others. But dig deeper and it’s probably not entirely the case. Are we really concerned, or are we using the excuse to slack off our writing? Does it coincide with a difficult patch? A sluggish moment in our imagination? If this is the case, the answer is certainly to slog it out. Keep fingers to keyboard and if you’re worth your salt, something will come. You’ll never get back to peak form if you quit every time the going gets tough, and you’ll certainly never get better.
The situation is no different from physical training and performance. All those sports brands exhortations to ‘just do it’? They were actually talking about writing.