The Years The Locust Ate

Posted on by Sarah A. Hoyt

On this blog, a few days ago, when I said a day was wasted, someone said Jerry Pournelle calls those the days the locust ate.

Well… the weekend sort of turned into that. Not really, but sort of, as I ended up having to put up various “fires” around the house/family. So I’m hoping to settle down and finish Through Fire this week, which means I’ll run one of the posts y’all have sent me tomorrow, probably.

But here’s the thing, I was thinking of that of “the years the locust ate.”

It’s really easy to lose track of time, particularly when you work from home and have more than one job, (between housekeeping, writing, publishing, doing covers for the family and close friends, and “expect the unexpected” moments, I think I’m up to around five or so.)

Because you’re doing this and doing that and picking up on the other, it’s really easy to come to the end of the day and have done nothing.

It’s also really easy to tell yourself “It’s been really stressful. I’ll take the week and—”

It’s not that it’s not been stressful. It’s that the more time you take, the less the habit of just writing is there to fall back on.

So, have I done any of those things? I’ve done all of those things, except take time off. The take time off thing usually happens ONLY when I’m so sick I can’t focus. Then I’ll drag off to bed and accept the week is off. But even that will break the habit. And habit is hard to establish.

Because I’m breaking in a new planning system, I thought I’d write down my observations on time management and being a writer.

They go something like this

  • Writing is mostly an habit.
  • Any day you don’t write increases the chances you won’t write the next day.
  • Any type of entertainment/habit of thought that takes you away from reading/thinking about writing is a detriment.
  • If you become totally immersed in anything, be it daydreaming or watching movies or audiobooks even, writing becomes more difficult.
  • Separating the places you do activities helps. If you do them all from home, then try to edit at one desk/in one are; write at another; and do internet work at another.
  • In the end, the only thing that counts is writing. You don’t have to be perfect, you have to get it done.

 

You can’t get back – and I can’t get back – the years the locust ate. And I’m sort of trying to accept that it takes time to recover fully after you go through a period of constant illness. I’m not good at accepting that, but it’s always been true.

But I am getting back. Becoming more myself again. And I can’t recover the time lost. What I can do is be more efficient about what I do in the future.

This is true about almost any human endeavor, I find. Turns out in the “you can do anything” past, no one pointed out to some of us that some activities have a time and after that can’t happen.

I was one of the fortunate ones who found my husband early, but even I didn’t realize how quickly the window of our fertility would close. If I had I’d have been more aggressive/gone for infertility right after second son. We didn’t. That’s a regret, but it’s also something I can do nothing about. Instead I can love the kids I have now.

In the same way, I wish I’d finished a lot of the books I started and dropped because no one would buy. That can’t be done, but if I manage my time, maybe I can finish some of them and put them up now.

I’m caught between admitting that I’m not precisely made of iron, that there will be days of just staring blankly at nothing much, and not giving myself too much of an excuse to sit on my butt.

Which I suppose means I’m human.

The years the locust ate can’t be recovered. And Atlas will always have to learn to juggle. Shrugging was always a fantasy.

20 thoughts on “The Years The Locust Ate”

  1. 13 months ago, a simple fall left me a quadrapelegic. For the first time since I delivered newspapers back in 6th grade (almost 45 years ago), I was no longer a productive member of society. I haven’t been sure west to call this time off, but I really like the year the locust ate.

    Thanks to good health insurance and a team of hard working physical and occupational therapists, I can now type with the fingers of one hand, and I can take 30 steps in a walker. Thanks to good LTD insurance, we can pay the bills. And thanks to having some extra time on my hands, I discovered Sarah’s writing which keeps my kindle busy when I can’t sleep in the middle of the night

    I can’t recover this past year, but I hope it’s preparing me for a different future.

    . Dave. Madison NJ USA

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  2. Sarah,

    I believe health should come before writing, as you are not going to be doing much writing, if you are in a hospital bed or dead.

    A little lost past is better than a lost future.

    Take Care.

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    1. I’ll echo what Josh said and add that my hubby has been chasing me off to rest if I look close to being burned out.

      One day I’ll have a proper ‘workspace’ – I daydream of having it the size of a granny house with a little kitchenette so I can store snacks and drink there, and a library for my research stuff.

      (Dreams are free!)

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      1. I momentarily daydreamed about that… then realized that it would just mean the kids would have to stand on top of each other to talk to me anyways, and it would quickly be claimed as a playhouse. ;)

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  4. I’m trying to develop a writing habit by writing a little bit each day, even if it is just one sentence on my story. So far it has done me well. I stopped arguing on the internet (to much) because I realized it was non-productive time. I still have Mount and Blade installed on my computer but am afraid to open it because the last time I started playing I lost three months.

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  5. If what you do with regard to the non-writing stuff has meaning and importance, I doubt anything is being eaten by locusts.

    If, OTOH, you wake up and normally veg in front of the TV for 12 straight hours, then you got a serious problem with locusts.

    Conversely, if you put your job ahead of everything as per Cat’s in The Cradle you got a serious problem with locusts.

    Omnibit of the day: The inspiration for Cat’s in the Cradle was a New York City Democrat leader.

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  6. The locusts have eaten the last two months for me. Yesterday was particularly bad because I had to take the hubby to the ER. I thought that I might have to admit him. Turns out the cancer is causing weak hips. Who knew? The antibodies from the cancer are attacking that area. I will have to talk to the doctor tomorrow about it. Plus good training, they sent us a PT who showed us ways to get him on his feet and some exercises he could do in bed and with a walker. I just have to get a walker today. I guess this might be TMI… but locusts are really really really bad. And I have to make writing a habit again.

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      1. Yea– I feel leveled alright … Thankfully one of his daughters showed up today and brightened up her dad. It is those moments that make me happy amidst the sadness.

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  7. A good and timely reminder, Sarah. After reading it, I looked back – just over the last month! – and saw many instances where gaps appeared in my days.
    Mostly, it was the little time wasters.
    -This is important, must do Now!
    -I only need a moment of your time …
    -Repetitive chores (I’m a house-husband)
    -Various interruptions (3 YO grand daughter!!)
    -Illness, or one kind or another.

    It just creeps up on you. And nibbles away voraciously.

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    1. Yesterday I HAD to deal with laundry. Didn’t want to, but the guys object to going around naked. (Yeah, they can do their own laundry, but our arrangement now makes that difficult as I’m nursing the washer through end of life issues and hoping it lasts till we move.)

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      1. I’d offer to lone you our laundry helper boy, but his main trick is to dump out the baskets and then put half of the stuff back. Really doesn’t help get things done FASTER, just cuter. (Apparently the kitty blanket you sent is the only thing that

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          1. Hm, I think my helper posted it…. The only thing that keeps the horrible evil sleep monster away.

            He’ll be sitting there yelling and chattering defiance at sleep until one of us tucks it into his arms and then he just glares at the air. (and eventually falls asleep, because he’s not yelling)

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  8. Thank you for your blog.

    I am commenting to tell you that I copied part of your observations about the time the locusts ate into an email to my DH, who is currently doing busywork instead of working on an adventure story that he mentioned the premise to me and now when he wants to chat about it, I tell him “write it down! If you talk it out it will go away.” Which may not be true for everybody, but it wouldn’t surprise me if it was.

    my best to you and yours

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  9. The last couple of months definitely qualify for me as time the locusts ate. On June 11 my mother-in-law had a massive heart attack, and the rest of that month and most of July went to putting her affairs in order and settling her estate. And it was made a lot harder than it needed to have been by some serious dysfunction in part of the family, to the point they’d rather win than be right and were willing to destroy everything to dispossess other family members of certain things.

    Once we got that dealt with, we went through three conventions in August — two of which we were selling at, and the third we were helping with. The ones where we were in the dealers’ room both involved significant travel, which is just as tiring as the actual setup, selling, and teardown.

    So work on Holovideo pretty much ground to a halt. I’m getting it moving again, but we’re still dealing with Stuff, if at a lower level of intensity, and it all eats into my energy and headspace. (The serial format is an interesting one, which does give me some flexibility, but when Life Happens, it really tells on me. Even when I have a cushion of chapters written ahead, they can evaporate really fast).

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  10. Thank you for your blog, Sarah. I hope you get your time all squared away soon.

    I recently lost four years to the locusts. The stroke seven years ago knocked the pegs out from under me, but I lived in a “fog” for four years. That was and is the worst of it. I have very little memory of that time.

    I also lost the ability to concentrate, so the locusts still don’t go hungry around me.

    I’m sure it will come around for you soon, and your readers will reap the benefits.

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