What Was I Doing? Procrastination and the Writing Process

“Writing process: Hang out on Facebook until bored. Then hang out on Facebook more. Ignore the drier buzzing. Eat peanuts. Finally, get bored enough that writing actually looks exciting.”

This was my Facebook status one day last week. I’m in the last month before a book deadline, and procrastination has taken root. Each morning, I rise with fresh dedication, new goals, and pristine plans. By the time I’ve had my second cup of coffee, I’m off track again. A single email can drag me into a different direction. Refining my Spotify song lists is suddenly a critical task. Scrubbing the kitchen sink until it glows is paramount.

I used to let this routine of procrastination panic me. I was certain that every other writer in the world could sit without distraction, pumping out hundreds of wonderful words without effort. I tried writing first thing in the morning or settling down for two hours before lunch and two hours in the afternoon. I’ve written in coffee houses and on my living room couch and at the public library and even at my desk.

While these various approaches were sometimes successful, my habits of procrastination persist. I still cannot avoid creating my own traffic jams of deadlines or erase those last few days or hours of rushed work.

So like many other writers, I’ve come to the conclusion that procrastination is part of my process. I’ve made time for hours of Netflix watching and Facebook posting and organizing the photos on my computer.

Piers Steel, organizational psychologist at the Haskayne School of Business at the University of Calgary and author of The Procrastination Equation—ironically, a book I did not hesitate to read when I came across it last year—asserts that there are two faulty beliefs that underlie procrastination: life should be easy and our self-worth is dependent on our success.

I buy into each of these myths 100 percent. Writing should be easy; when it’s not, I’ve failed. And when my writing stinks—as all first drafts do—I’m a complete and utter failure.

Daniel Levitin, author of The Organized Mind (and my favorite science book of 2014) gives me a neurological out for this bit of irrationality. The limbic (reptilian) system of my brain is always seeking instantaneous gratification. Meanwhile the frontal cortex tells me to delay pleasure. When I don’t get an immediate reward for my work—a perfect first draft that comes easily—the limbic system often wins out, drinking up all of the dopamine.

Steel and Levitin tell me my procrastination is normal. My writing process is messy, emotional, and long. Most of the time I look like I’m goofing off, but between my ears, a battle is raging. It’s a war between those myths and my self-confidence. While watching the third episode of American Horror Story Freakshow in a row, my brain is processing the work I need to accomplish. In fact, my gray matter never shuts up during procrastination. Something is getting done—and this is the magic of writing and thinking for a living.

On my best days, I can set a timer for Facebook or create reachable goals with rewards at the ends. Most of the time, though, my writing process centers on the predictable dance of distraction. I sometimes settle into the procrastination, even giving myself a day to indulge without beating myself up. I’ll pay for that luxury later, I know. It’s somehow worth the price.