I have lots of little things to do, so my mind is completely cluttered as the weekend starts. My mission over the next 2 days is to try and complete at least a few tasks to leave room in my head for the important ones! For instance, this morning I am in the middle of (a) preparing to post an application for funding for bowling mats (don’t ask), (b) applying bling to a hand mirror (see picture) which will soon be a theatrical prop, (c) trying to decide how many printed books and what sort of publicity materials I will need for a craft fair in 3 months’ time – OK, that one isn’t urgent at the moment but my previous experience of procrastination, though not of craft fairs, tells me that a bit of work now will save a lot of anguish and panic the night before the fair. There are also quite a few other theatre-related things to do such as locating a pack of tarot cards and trying to find the scanner cable. Not to mention urgent housework, which looms large in my mind but actually consists of a multiplicity of tiny annoying tasks.
As far as I’m concerned the important things mostly centre around research and planning for my next novel. Again, my procrastination track record is useful here in reminding me that if I don’t spend some time thinking about this now, I will be staring at a blank page in July, when I plan to start writing. I already know I only have a vague idea about the plot: all I have at the moment is the setting, a handful of characters and a working title which may still change before I start writing, during the writing process or at any time up to the point where I click on the ‘publish’ button.
Now that I’ve written some of it down, it doesn’t seem quite so bad. I think this panic about encroaching mental clutter has been partly caused by the fact that we are getting the lighting changed in our office at the weekend and I’ve had to completely de-clutter my desk there because the workmen are afraid of knocking everything down when they start swinging ladders around. Seeing my desk without its familiar covering of loose papers, papers held together by staples, treasury tags and clips, papers in folders, sticky notes in various shapes and sizes, spare plastic pockets and odd bulldog clips and drawing-pins underneath it all, was quite a traumatic experience. It’s almost as if the clutter has transferred itself from the desk straight into my head. I may need some time off with stress (not really).