Life gets weird when you work to deadlines.
Everyone else in the world lives to a calendar. Not everyone uses the same calendar–Gregorian caught on, but it was more the Apple of calendars than the VHS–but most people in a geographic area use the same calendar. Society is constructed around these calendars. We all know what is expected for a Friday night, people look forward to the same bank holidays, in Northern Ireland we know to take the side road if we hear the sound of drums (trust me, do not get stuck behind a marching band).
It’s different when you have deadlines. Well, disclaimer, at least it is for me. I hope I’m not a weirdo, but I cannot rule it out. My calendar runs from the the day after I handed in my last novel to the day I have to hand in the next. The other day someone asked me what the date was and I worked it out by counting backwards from ‘well, it’s eight days to my deadline on the nineteenth, so…’.
Honestly, you can feel quite disconnected from the rest of the world. It isn’t that you have more time–no matter the calendar that doesn’t change–but that the way your time is structured is different. My free days are always close to the end of the previous deadline, when I am cocky about my time management skills and have days and days until the next deadline. As we approach the deadline I am writing all hours and trying to beat it by a couple of days. My bank holidays are cons, my Easter and Christmas are book releases, and there’s nearly as much work goes into a blog tour as a BBQ with my family.
When I make plans with my friends now they all factor in whether I am starting a book (good), mid-book (depends how well it is going), or at the end (put her in the corner and don’t let her talk herself into going for meringue*). I figure it’s a bit like being an accountant, where at least 75% of your life is lived to the tax year.
It doesn’t help that I work from home, of course. It’s like a little microcosm, where four years go by in the time it takes the rest of you to have one. Other than the occasional ‘big event’, I rarely have to even give the nod to the old Gregorian calendar. The social pressure to wear pants is also much lessened, but I do try and abide by clothes usually….admittedly in the winter it’s frequently a polar bear onesie, but that’s a fight for another day.
I’m not complaining, I frequently do but not right now. Just…it gets weird when you work to deadlines. My next deadline is 19 June, my next edit starts around the same time, and my new book is out 1 August. I’ve no IDEA what the rest of the world is doing!
*I have coeliacs, most pasties are not my friend. Meringues are just little clouds of joy.