As a writer, I have a big problem.
It’s not writer’s block. (Sometimes it is, but we won’t tempt the fates by talking about it.)
It’s not thinking about what to discuss at the water cooler. (I work from home, and my dogs can’t talk…yet.)
It’s not even trying to figure out what outfits I’ll wear to the office. (I may wear oversized concert T-shirts and sweat pants, but I admit to nothing.)
The problem I have, as I sit here looking at my paper-laden home office, is one word that comes to mind: firetrap.
Many folks assume that when you work as a writer, you work on one story at a time.
They are wrong. Very, very wrong.
Many times, I’m working on six or more stories at once. When I write for national magazines, I might be working on a Christmas story in the middle of August.
And let me tell you, it’s a bit tough to get all jolly when you’re sweating to death in 90-degree weather. Sure, I can crank up the air conditioning to make it feel winter-y, but there’s no way I’m setting up a tree. But I digress…
Because I’m working on many stories, I’ve got lots of files, magazines, printed-out interviews, pens, erasers, books, a digital recorder, pencils, post-its…you getting the drift yet?
And there’s paper—so much paper. It looks like my filing cabinets threw up on my desks.
Yes, I have two desks and many filing cabinets. If I had the room to surround myself completely with them, well, I’d probably do that too.
When I finish a story, I try my best to put all my notes, etc. in a file folder. But since I’m jumping into another story or two or three…or six…I don’t usually file them away. You know, like an organized person would.
I end up with piles of files all over the floor. And on the bookcases. And under my desks.
I want to get organized, but every time I swear that I’ll file, well, even the dogs know that I’m lying.
A writer friend of mine out on the West Coast has made his office nearly paperless. He has multiple computer monitors so that he can see quotes from interviews on one while inserting them into a story he’s writing on another. He can research the web, while he’s looking at his article—at the same time. He’s saving tons of trees each year.
I hate him.
Only kidding. But it truly boggles my mind at thinking about being completely paperless. Knowing how I am, what would happen?
Would I start losing my extra computer monitors because instead of covering my desks with sticky notes, I would have a plethora of them all over my monitors? Would my husband come in to find me buried in computer wires from the 47 monitors I swore I needed? Or would I just be huddled in a corner clutching a marble-backed composition book to my chest while weeping?
I may as well admit it: I’m not going paperless anytime soon. But I think I could take some steps toward organization. So, here goes…
I hereby vow to organize my home office before the end of this year.
I think I just heard my dogs snort…
Michele Wojciechowski, when she’s not peeking out over the piles of paper on her desks, writes “Wojo’s World®” from Baltimore.