This was the least productive writing week of the past six months. Unfortunately, the sentence rings very hollow; I logged a similar claim last week. Still, the latest doldrum marks a new personal record. Five hundred words. Oh, how did this happen?

Edits bare some blame. I beat three chapters quite severely. Launching a new website ate a day, book buying and listing, another. Perfectionism aggravated the shortfall. I revised one chapter nine times in a single session, though certainly the streak explains no more than one off day across seven.

So, I examined differences between the past two weeks and more productive ones. The motive is self-serving.. In the name of finishing the book this year, I’d like piles of the latter, and very little of the former.

A common thread found among better weeks: a successful week begins on Monday, immediately after breakfast. Prolific, tight, readable writing occurs first thing in the morning, or not at all. At least for me, that is truth. When responsibilities are sloughed, the chores, the errands pushed back into the afternoon, and the writing assumes precedence, it happens. A clear mind drives a ship great distances, so to does writing early and often.

Therefore, I’m altering my sleeping patterns. After feeding the cats at 5AM instead of returning to bed, I’ll rise, write until 9AM, then handle life.

The new schedule starts Sunday.