Caren Johnson Literary Agency

By Barbara Caridad Ferrer

So Caren and I were emailing back and forth the other day, talking about the next few months and potential timelines. I’m going to have a deadline shortly for my second round of revisions on the Carmen project, but other than that, any deadlines for the foreseeable future are going to be self-imposed or worked out with Caren. She observed that I’ve never actually missed a deadline and that I’ve only once asked an editor for any kind of an extension. Jokingly she asked, “Is it your Virgo nature that makes you so disciplined and good with your time management skills?”

Um… well, if you buy into the astrological sign you’re born under influencing your traits and behaviors in any way then, yeah—I’m pretty much as Virgo as Virgo gets. I mean, I plan everything—even planned my midlife crisis. When my husband mentioned that he didn’t think that’s the way midlife crises worked, I merely looked at him and said, “Hel-lo, have you met me?” By the way, the midlife crisis is named Alejandro and he’s gorgeous and very powerful.

It’s my car, y’all. (I know what you were thinking.)

Anyhow, back to time management. I thought a little more about it, because I can’t simply put it down to being a Virgo—anal-retentive tendencies aside. There are a few things that go into my being able to manage time so that I make deadlines. Some of them are worth emulating, some probably not so much. The more I broke it down, the more I realized that what it came down to, the big secret to my time management is that I know myself very, very well. Kind of unnaturally well, actually.

I know how I write. I know that when I begin a project I usually lose myself in research during the day and write at night when there are fewer interruptions. It’s during this period that I’m more amenable to interruptions from Real Life. I’m actually a human, in other words.

I know that once I have a few chapters down and I’ve gotten a handle on my characters and the storyline is really taking shape in my mind, that’s when I sit down and write a chapter by chapter outline for the rest of the manuscript. This acts as a mental trip switch of sorts. I know the story and characters are going to start taking over and my levels of sociability are going to lower.

Once I hit that particular stage, too, I take a long look at my calendar and give myself a deadline. If there’s a conference or holidays in there, I account for them. I know that with a conference, for example, I’m generally useless for anywhere from a week to ten days, depending on the conference. I don’t like writing at conferences, although I’ve been known to do it. The holiday thing is also a biggie—I had a revisions deadline a week before the holidays this past year and that was a mistake and what led to my asking for a two week extension. Lesson learned there.

The thing about working in this manner, too, is that for me, seeing steady progress is a complete charge—I absolutely love it. It’s something that inspires me to keep going and I continually pick up steam as I go along, writing for longer and longer stretches of time and feeling the spell of the story wrap itself around me until that world and the people in it almost feel more real to me than the corporeal world. I think this is something that harkens back to my training as a classical pianist—the early days of learning a difficult piece were always so piecemeal, working through sections slowly, learning them, learning the personalities of the various movements and the story the composer was trying to tell, but then—once I had it—once the music and I had melded together and formed this gorgeous symbiotic relationship, it was like magic. Practicing became pure joy, just losing myself for hours in the sheer beauty of what I was creating.

Okay then, coming back off the tagent…

So—once I’m that far into a manuscript and have a set deadline is where I think the real key to my particular style of time management kicks in. I become very, very selfish. I make it clear to my family that I have a deadline, that my world consists of what’s going on in my head, and if they interrupt me for anything other than measurable blood loss or bone shards poking through skin, it’s at their own risk. I then put my head down, lose myself in the world I’m creating, and don’t emerge until I’m done. Usually at that point, I discover that I’m covered in a layer of dust and a bill or two may have gone unpaid. However, at the same time, I’m reassured to discover that the world has continued to revolve and no one is any the worse for wear. That was the biggest lesson for me to learn—that I didn’t have to be everything to everyone and I could actually reclaim time for myself. What a novel concept!

Now, is this the solution for everyone? Oh good heavens, no. Again, it works for me, because I know myself. At heart, I’m an introvert. While I love getting out to conferences and socializing, it exhausts me and I have to retreat to my cave in order to recharge my batteries. Therefore, I have no problem holing up and hiding out for long stretches of time. I also like the comfort of my office with MY music and MY coffee cup and MY endless supply of peanut butter M&Ms and Diet Coke as opposed to being out and about. When I’m deep in writing, I like focusing just the project, rather than multitasking—multitasking tends to annoy the ever-lovin’ you know out of me, because it’s just an irritant. Something that distracts me from what I really want to be doing. Sleep actually almost begins to fall into this category near the end of a manuscript—I have a lot of trouble sleeping because the story is just that anxious to get out.

It also works because I have a very, very supportive family, because I’m fortunate enough to write full-time, and because I made it clear from very early on that this was my job and they had to respect it as such. We had a few colorful moments early on when the munchkins would come to me with a question while I was hip-deep in writing and I’d exasperatedly ask why they hadn’t gone to their father first and the reply was “because Daddy’s playing City of Heroes.”

Yeah, we got those priorities straightened out right quick, let me tell you.

So if you thrive on adrenaline and chaos, obviously, my style doesn’t work for you. If you need some mix of the two, my style’s not going to do it for you either. I simply can’t stress enough that what it comes down to is knowing yourself as best you can and then applying lessons learned.

And to those of you who hold full-time jobs, run households, and still manage your writing careers? Hats off to you, because you’ve REALLY figured it out.

Barbara Caridad Ferrer