Draw The Line On Deadlines

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

When I meet with writers, “Deadlines” are in the top ten topics of discussion. Who has one, who missed one, who needs one, why we have them this time.  When we have to be done takes up a lot of space in the minds of writers.

I realized this Dominance of the Deadline odd as it’s not directly about writing.

As I talk with my fellow writers, the stress of deadlines comes up all the time. An editor may inflict a deadline, an author may choose one, but most writers worry about them. While wrestling with this worry, I noticed how much fear of deadlines slows writing.

You can’t write well when you’re panicked.

Now, let me voice a blasphemy – Deadlines can be a bad idea for some writers or some projects.

A shocking statement, but let me turn (inevitably) to Agile approaches. Agile teaches us to evaluate the value of things – a project, a task, a tool. You should ask if a deadline you have brings any value – it may not.

A deadline may be very valuable. For example, if you’re trying to meet an ideal release date for a marketing campaign, the deadline matters.  But you may need to give up on other things of lesser value. If one book needs to hit a deadline, set aside that side project or drop that indulgent appendix.

A deadline may be valuable but not critical.  A deadline could be helpful but not vital – meaning maybe you don’t take it as seriously. If you want to get a book done by a given month to start another, well, a slight change won’t matter. As important as a deadline is, maybe quality or free time matter more.

A deadline may be a bad idea.  Hersey? Perhaps, but maybe some of your deadlines do nothing but cause pain. Maybe you drop a deadline on a “for fun” project or acknowledge the unknown. Hey, you can always add a deadline later.

A deadline is a choice, even if your choice is “I’m gonna fail to deliver this book.

I would also add we often use deadlines as substitutes for other things. We use a deadline to force discipline, but maybe a daily writing exercise is better for us. A deadline may help us hit an ideal time for marketing – but perhaps a different advertising campaign is a better idea.

Evaluate the value of your deadlines as a writer – and as a person. I’d suggest you do it soon, but only if that deadline is valuable.

Steven Savage

The Obligation of Writing

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

Lately, I’ve come to realize just how much of writing involves social obligations:

  • We join writer’s groups for support and are obligated to participate and help.
  • We pre-read for others, and in turn, they are obligated to pre-read for us.
  • We have to juggle obligations with our editors, artists, and so on.
  • We obligate ourselves to speak at conventions – then wonder how we signed up to do three panels (says the author who’s done that).

I’m sure you’ve had your own experiences of “writer’s obligations.” I’m also sure, like me, you may ask “why didn’t anyone tell us how much of writing is social obligations?” For too many writers, no one prepares us for the sheer social weight writing can carry.

For myself, I’m slowly learning to give myself space when it comes to the social demands of writing. I cannot participate in every writing group activity – or I won’t have time to write. I make time for when my fellow writers need help – while appreciating my own limits. It’s a work in progress.

I hope you can show yourself some compassion too.

But we also must remind our fellow writers that the social obligations of writing can overburden them. We can listen to them and gently remind them of their limits. We can carefully warn them when they are in danger of being overloaded. We can accept them as people who can’t do everything.

Maybe they’ll show themselves some compassion.

I’m still figuring where to go with this realization. I’d like to make it more than just a blog post. Perhaps there are discussions to be had in writer’s groups or a panel to do at a convention.

As long as I don’t get over-obligated . . .

Steven Savage

When Your Thing Becomes Your Thing

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

Serdar and I often talk about why we create what we do. These conversations veer into things like the “punk” mindset, artistic visions, and the like. Why do people make what they do, and how can they be true to their vision?

Well, the truth is, it’s not always a straight line or magical revelation. Finding that “you” thing in writing is a journey, one my Way With Worlds books illustrates.

Most of my readers know how they started. I had two books on worldbuilding – the Way With Worlds Books – but wanted to sell more. I got the idea to do six small, cheap books on specific subjects to tie into them and raise interest. After being told I should raise the price to show value, they started selling well.

Previously I thought like a marketer, but now I saw what people wanted. People wanted specialized guides, and my unique “coaching buddy approach” seemed to resonate with people. This realization fired up my writing side.

So I wrote a few more books.

The act of writing the books inspired more books. Reader feedback guided me to pick the best titles. I set the lofty goal of writing thirty of these books, figuring that would ensure sales and be a worthy challenge.

I wrote a few more books, and my motivations evolved.

My drive to help writers and creatives changed. I realized how much good I could do and how much help I could provide. I also realized that worldbuilding helped people think about our world. What I did mattered to people.

I also began to savor the challenge in creating these books. I had to find what subjects people needed to learn. I created a system to help me write them effectively.

I kept writing.

I came to realize how outlandish my goals were – and how much I enjoyed them. Thirty books for a specific audience with specific interests on specific subjects? I was doing something only I could do.

I had started with a simple marketing idea based on a subject that interested me. It had evolved into a challenge, then something outrageously me. As you noticed, I’m still writing.

Our creative journeys aren’t linear, and our creative selves not always apparent. But if you keep creating and learning, you’ll find that work only you can make – and the you that can make that work.

Steven Savage