I am a master at procrastination. I’m a Master of Arts, as well, but we won’t go into that. (Bit of a Mickey Mouse degree, really.) My Oxford dictionary says procrastination is to “defer action”, “be dilatory” and “postpone”. It is all of those things, and it seems to me to only occur when you’re supposed to be doing something that you HAVE to do. I mean, you wouldn’t defer the pleasure of reading a new book by a favourite author, would you? Not unless you’d promised yourself a treat after you’d finished doing this incredibly hard task at which you’re - er - procrastinating.
So, procrastinating is putting off something which you really ought to do. In the case of writers, it’s frequently a deadline. In the case of the pre-published writer with no deadline, it rarely occurs, because writing is something done purely for enjoyment. If, however, you are enrolled on a scheme such as the Romantic Novelists’ Association’s excellent New Writer’s Scheme, then you have a deadline, to submit your nurtured baby for a critique, possibly a second read, feedback - and who knows? Possible publication. This is an excellent training ground for the exigencies of the published life.
Sadly, this argues that procrastinating means you’re doing something you don’t like doing. Actually, most of us do like it. It’s just that it’s incredibly hard work. It isn’t simply sitting down at the keyboard and copy typing 2000 words a day. You’ve got to think as well. The sensible advice is, of course, to plan every inch and tittle of your story to the last full stop, then you probably could sit down and copy type it, but even if you have prepared a proper outline and/or synopsis, story-telling is organic. Situations and characters appear out of nowhere. Sometimes you greet them with an air-punch and a shouted “YES!”, frightening the cat. Sometimes you just wrinkle your brow and say “How the hell did that happen?” And then you have to stop and think about it, and then, yes - you’re procrastinating. Wandering into the garden to deadhead the roses (did that yesterday), writing a guest blog (doing that today), dusting - what? Dusting? Well, maybe not.
I haven’t really helped, have I? When it comes down to it, if you’re procrastinating so much you’ve completely lost interest, I’d stop. Even if the hot breath of an editor is on the back of your flinching neck. I’ve done it. Told my editor this story isn’t working and could I start again. That made the deadline even shorter, but it worked a lot better. And the nearer you get to that deadline the less procrastinating you do because you haven’t got the time. As with writer’s block, about which I’m not sure, you just keep going. All right then, go and make a cup of tea, deadhead the roses, write a blog. But Come Back. And just write. Go on, you know you want to really.