On the STAR STICKER method.
A lot of people have seen me talking about my calendar system lately, and as I gear up to turn the page and start a new month, I thought I’d share this here, for anyone who needs a new system and/or a kick in the pants.
Basically, I get a calendar and a variety of colored stars, and make a key each month based on what I need to accomplish.
1) 500 words written
2) 100 pages read
And then I basically just keep track. It sounds simple, but I find the daily accountability and visibility of measurement INCREDIBLE helpful. You can see that in September I wrote almost 30k, read about 4,000 pages, worked out 19 days, and went to school. Whatever your goals may be, the system keeps you from losing track of days/weeks.
Anyway, if you want to give it a try, join in! Tomorrow’s a new month!
Q: The most popular types of characters in comedy these days seem to be adults unwilling to grow up. This is common in Hollywood, as well as literature. The eternal teen. But your characters tend to be real adults who are doing their best to live, struggling mightily. There’s no Peter Pan Syndrome at work.George Saunders in Mike Sacks’s Poking a Dead Frog, indirectly responding to the one-paragraph version of A.O. Scott’s #deathofadulthood. (via cureforbedbugs)
A: I think I had a little advantage in this, in that I didn’t really get started until I already had a regular life — a job, a wife, two kids — so the idea of eternal youth had flown. And it had flown for good reason, by which I mean: I was totally on board with it having flown. I didn’t feel reduced or compromised by having a job and family. The whole 1970s idea of “selling out” had been rendered anachronistic and even gross by the extent of my love for my wife and kids. Beatniking was not an option anymore. So then I had to learn that the things that were actually bothering me or challenging me during the day were valid subjects for literature. Mostly, at that time, what was bothering me was 1) not having enough money to provide for my family in the way they deserved, and 2) having a job that required me to spend basically my whole day doing things that I didn’t want to do and were simultaneously hard and boring but that were, at the time, the only antidote to (1). So I suppose that’s a fundamentally adult conundrum: no place to run, because the trap you’re in is made of love. Love plus material paucity.