Discipline
Is LESS more?
The past few weeks, I’ve been trying to write some new short work. Transitioning from a book-length frame of mind to something shorter like a poem or flash is turning out to be pretty challenging despite all my frequent Substack posts. Just like sitting around and writing a dissertation and three books in less than ten years will make a mess of your posterior unless you’re mindfully tending to that too (where does one find the time…), it feels impossible to seamlessly switch gears on the snap of a dime.
That means today, I’m reacquainting myself with short form writing. Which means reading magazines and maybe revisiting a couple of anthologies. For all my adventures in novel-length durations these last two years, I did fall out of practice when it comes to honing the impulse to draft something in less than 500 words.
For these reasons, I like deadlines probably similar to the way that some people like school because (paid) assignments make writing feel urgent. But because the pay is wildly inconsistent, I have to do more work (not-writing) to buy time(-off?) to write.
Last night, for example, when I finished writing aka doing work that I have no idea will = publishable writing, I decided to switch gears and start working on a grant application to teach some poetry workshops in 2027. It’s “free” to apply, but obviously these kinds of opportunities take time, time away from “writing.” Technical writing is a whole different skillset than poetry. A career as a writer = code-switching, forever.
Outside of degree-granting frameworks, unless you have an editor or agent or publisher tapping her foot, it can be really hard to get into some kind of consistent groove. At least that has often been the case for me: relying on others to set deadlines. I don’t feel too bad about this as I’ve also served that role for others. I have a friend who has referred to me as a “book dom” in lieu of describing me as an editor. I’ve also had more than one student note on a teaching eval that I’m “not very fun” or I could stand to “chill out,” because under pressure, I can get kind of managerial and overly task-oriented, too critical, etc. (Message received. Working on that.)
I know a lot of makers, especially those earlier in their careers, can lack some of these relationships— and who wants a boss, honestly?; some writers are prolific without some parental figure breathing down their necks, and I have always been envious of those who are so fascinated with or confident in whatever it is they’re doing that they don’t rely on external validation or the threat of poverty to go about their business.
It is also possible that this is a fantasy and it does not describe anyone in the entire history of letters.
Regardless: I do wish I was one of those people instead of the messy, fumbling person I often perceive myself to be, particularly when it comes to the creative part of my job. Writing. It’s only a little embarrassing that I’m a pretty decent administrator; I can write budgets; apply and evaluate grants, proposals, project timelines, and so on. I can keep records, organize groups, and I’m capable of working with others. But when it comes to the creative part of what I do… I don’t track changes, I’m inconsistent, I tend to be pretty last-minute, kind of disorganized and pretty impulsive; I don’t have routines, I seldom outline or plot my day; the only sure thing is chaos.
So learning discipline or being consistent on this front is this on-going struggle for me, and in the absence of deadlines, it’s hard for me to lock in because I spend a great deal of energy trying to rally before prematurely sinking my battleship.
I think I recently realized that despite my desire to write a novel or novel-in-verse, or a book-length essay or all of the above, I’m not in shape to do that physically or mentally right away. I mean, I’m always “writing.” I am never not-writing. But I’ve given so much of the past ten years to writing at the cost of other things, while also helping others develop their writing, and… it’s not sustainable, all this giving. I get a lot back too from being a maker: I’m part of this extended beautiful community and even more, I love what goes on behind-the-scenes and in the studio, but, I been at this for a while. There’s more I’d like to do, despite whatever fantasies I have about leaving academia, or retiring from writing, neither of which are likely to happen anytime soon.
So I’m back to thinking about longevity. Because everything = writing. And there’s no writing without a body. Maybe this is intuitive and like “duh” for whoever is reading this; it is not intuitive for me, and as I learned being at several artist residencies, it’s not intuitive for a lot of other writers either. It’s like deprivation is literally the norm for some people. You don’t deserve this, you can live without that. Find a way to forego etc. The invisible shift from habit, to lifestyle, to belief system is unreal and the chokehold that can have you in as an artist is fucked up. Cutting your teeth is cool. Everyone goes through that. There’s a time and a place. But deprivation is not the way.
As I try to break free of old habits, top of mind for me this week was finding a physical therapist at an in-network clinic. I found a provider, and have some appointments scheduled. Though I did receive a text from the Minnesota Department of Human Services that said, “Your benefits may change due to new state laws.” I clicked through to the link, and there was a note that effective Jan . 1 2026, members are limited to 14 physical therapy visits a year unless prior authorization is given. No doubt, this is thanks to the federal cuts happening in higher levels of government. The notice I received did not say this was due to the federal government, but there was an emblem in the letterhead featuring an image of some capital building. Sent to my phone. It also said beginning Jan 1, “undocumented noncitizens, who are age 18 years old or older, are not eligible for MinnesotaCare.” In all my years, I’ve never received this kind of notice before. At first I thought it was spam. I wish it were. Damn.
What is discipline in this line of work? Is less more?
I remember once I had a mentor who said something like, “The more you do, the more you do.” What is the purpose of all this doing? If you don’t feel connected to what you are doing? Or if you only know how to make / do under conditions of extreme duress?