I know so many writers who claim that they need absolute silence in order to write. I used to be one of them.
As I write this, we’re having a hardwood floor refinished in the room directly above my office.
If you’ve never had a floor redone, I envy you. You probably still have your hearing.
It turns out that old hardwood boards are incredibly acoustic. And if you grind on them with two-ton industrial vacuum-equipped sanders, you get what is quite possibly one of the loudest sounds in the known universe.
It’s a noise so painfully loud, you can plug your ears and shout to the person next to you, and they don’t even know you’re there. A 747 could land on my front lawn, and I wouldn’t know.
Right now, there are probably people at NASA scratching their heads over the cosmic feedback spewing from these machines.
Ah, the peace and tranquility of being a professional writer.
But I can cope. Back when I worked as a staff writer in an open bullpen, I had to learn to write under deadline with people constantly yammering and milling around.
It used to drive me crazy. but there was a bright side. I learned something important.
How to tune out distractions and get the job done.
That’s an invaluable skill.
Because there is no such thing as the “perfect” time to write. There’s no such thing as a stress-free day. Or “finding” time.
If there’s something you need to do, don’t wait for a calm moment. Just do it.
Because tomorrow, you might find yourself sitting five feet beneath an earth-shaking apocalyptic floor sanding machine.
It could happen.