I get up at five every morning to write. This is not something I ever imagined I would do. I’m not a morning person. My husband wakes early too, and I often wait until he’s gone up to his office before I get out of bed myself. That way I can avoid the morning kisses and greetings that are apparently required when you meet the love of your life by the coffee pot at 5AM. I prefer not to be spoken to or touched in any way until halfway through my second cup of coffee.
I never thought that writing in the early morning would work for me. I only tried it out of desperation.
After my daughter was born I had a hard time figuring out how to fit writing into my life again. At first it was twenty minutes here or there when Cassandra was napping, always with my attention split between my laptop and the baby monitor. Only in the evenings could I sit down knowing I’d have an an hour or two to work without interruption. But I was tired and slow. Every word was a struggle. I spent many frustrated hours wondering why I sucked so bad, wondering if I was going to feel this thick and stupid for the rest of my life, wondering if making a child was my last great creative act.
Two things saved my writing life. The first was getting some sleep. There’s nothing like a year of sleeping in no more than 3-hour stretches to make you feel thick and stupid. Also irritable and emotional and kind of crazy, but that’s another blog post. I found it a challenge just to keep Cassandra and myself clean, dressed, fed and injury-free. It’s no wonder writing was hard.
The second thing that saved me was getting up at five in the morning. By the time Cassandra was eighteen months old, I’d only finished one short story. Clearly, I needed to change something. I decided to try waking up early. I’d try it for a week. If it was awful, I’d stop.
It wasn’t awful. There’s something about that groggy, half-dreaming early-morning state that works for me. I’ve been more productive in the last six months than ever before. Maybe I’m tapping into my subconscious mind. Maybe my inner critic is still asleep. Maybe I’m just determined to get some work done if I’m going to be up at such an outrageous hour. Whatever it is, I’m hooked.
It’s not easy. I’ve had to give up a few things. I have trouble staying awake past ten, which means my social life has taken a hit, and I don’t watch a lot of movies or television.
But it’s worth it. It’s not just seeing my productivity skyrocket, either. I love having that sacred time at the beginning of my day. It’s for me and no one else. It’s more than just making up stories or working towards publication. Writing in the morning connects me to a part of myself I was afraid I’d lost.
I realize that getting up early is not for everyone. But it’s something to think about if you feel like you’re too busy to start the creative project you’ve been dreaming about. Or if, like me, you lack motivation and brain power at the end of a long day. Try waking up an hour earlier. Try it for a week. You might surprise yourself.
Kim Writing life
