That Whole Writing a Book Thing

So I've been plugging away at this book manuscript.  Generally, I force myself to produce 1000 words (or roughly 3 pages in Times New Roman) per day, mostly because my dissertation director (who is incredibly prolific, and incredibly famous, at least in her field of expertise) does so.  Some days that's a real struggle.  Some days I can write that much in an hour or less without blinking.  Theoretically, this pace means that by the end of the summer--taking into consideration vacation and days without childcare--I should have a "complete" new draft of this book.  Yes, the book I was "supposed" to have finished before I gave birth to Tiny Boy (yeah, that was realistic, huh?).

Recently I reread The Clockwork Muse, which, in a nutshell, outlines the importance of setting a schedule with deadlines in order to get one's book written (duh!) because sometimes I need to read such academic self-help literature in order to get myself going when I feel overwhelmed.  There's a table--ridiculous, in my opinion--in which he breaks down the book he's writing in to chapters and then sections, figuring out how many pages per section he anticipates and how many working days it will take to produce those pages, taking into consideration the pace at which he writes.  I suppose that could work in some fields, or with some projects.  But, for me, it really is about producing that set number of words per day, even if that means ending in the middle of a section.  Whether that means one hour of work or four.  Just. Put. One. Word. After. Another.

But between the book and the baby there's not a lot of time to get to the other things on my to do list.  My neighbor volunteered to mow my lawn (thank you!) because even though it takes a grand total of 10 minutes with a push mower, I just haven't been able to put Tiny Boy down for 10 minutes to do it.  I finally pulled a weed in our garden today that had grown almost as tall as me, and only then because MMH was using the rocker in my office to put Tiny Boy down for a nap and I really needed a break from writing that didn't involve the written word in any fashion.  There are phone calls to make.  Errands to run.  And when MMH is here I want to work, and when she's not, I'd rather not haul Tiny Boy places.  Trying to strike a balance over the course of the week between days we stay home (like today, as he's napping erratically) and days we go out (like Tuesday, when he woke up and then it was a quick nurse and diaper change and then I threw him in the car to visit Dr. Gorgeous and buy some groceries).

From the standpoint of getting this book written, my childcare arrangement certainly isn't ideal.  But in less than four months, he'll be in daycare full-time, and I will have long stretches of quiet in which to work.  And I'm sure, then, I'll miss having him home.

Right now I've got a swaddled sleeping baby and a cup of tea and a book on my nightstand.  Really, could I ask for more than that?