Eight days and still writing. I haven’t written every day in well over eight years. Not every piece is a gem, but I do like the exercise.
To the untrained eye, I might actually seem focused. I assure you it’s really an act. Elaborate trickery to not only fool others but myself as well. It has taken years of practice to figure out how my brain works and then finding ways to work around it.
I wouldn’t say what I’m doing now is focused at all, strictly speaking. Playing video games is the only time I can focus with no distractions. Everything else requires me to take breaks, walk around or talk to people. I don’t really sit and do. I get bored. I need lots of different stimuli.
Being focused for everyone else means shutting out the distractions and doing one thing for as long as possible. That drives me crazy. What I do is focus on the end goal. I like vague ideas more than I like structured plans, so just having the goal in mind works much better for me than making a to do list and checking things off. Sure it takes longer, but I don’t really mind.
I can’t focus on one thing for more than a few minutes unless I have a lot of distractions. If I’m writing, I need to have music on and maybe the TV. If I’m watching TV, I have at least three different web pages open that I’m reading from. At any given time I’m reading two or three books and maybe a magazine.
Writing with distractions is the only way I’ve found for me to turn off my inner editor. I write, he watches TV. When I need him he comes back and fixes the mess.