This book picked me up and shook me. I started working on my novel again, stalled because I was thinking I hadn’t plotted it right (perfectionist anyone?) I also began to finish a quilt that has been languishing for 4 years because I was afraid to do it wrong (again? perfectionism?)

While I read every book that I am asked to review, rarely do I find one that is so immediately and thoroughly applicable to my life.

If you are a writer, this book is an absolute must read.

If you’re not a writer, this books is still a read that should not be missed.

more here

My spring and summer have been somewhat tough. I mentioned my recent relationship breakup in another blog post. More recently, my cherished little dog, Orbit, has developed many health problems, and was recently hospitalized for several days. He’s 15, so this wasn’t entirely unanticipated, but it’s still a huge blow. Although I’ve worked hard over decades to develop resilience, I have absolutely no idea how I’m going to handle his decline and eventual death – although I presume that, like the many others who have had to watch cherished companion animals decline and die, I’ll get through it somehow.

All this is by way of saying that, for more than a month, I didn’t do much writing on The Seven Secrets of the Prolific. I know: ironic. But nowhere do I claim that you should be able to write at maximum capacity regardless of whatever else is going on with your life. We’re not machines, we’re complex beings; and to deny this complexity is a form of the reductive magical thinking – a.k.a., perfectionism.

Also, writers, more than most people, don’t have the luxury of denying reality – our job is to remain open, porous and pervious to life’s joys and vicissitudes. (Which reminds me: anytime someone tells you to “get a thicker skin,” tell them to go take a hike. As a writer – not to mention, a thinking, feeling, sensitive, empathetic human being – it’s your job to have a thin skin.)

Where was I?

Oh, okay. There were some other factors contributing to my underproductivity. One was probably that I hit the project’s “wall,” similar to the wall marathoners hit mid-race. Much as I love and am enthralled with the topics I write about in The Seven Secrets of the Prolific, the writing part of the project was starting to feel like a ten-month’s pregnancy, and I was eager to get it over with.

Another is that the details of self-publishing accelerated in that period, and crowded in on the writing process itself. Although I was using abundant help, the details of book production, artwork, website upgrades, choosing an ebook vendor, doing my Indiegogo.com fundraising pitch (which I’ll be posting soon!), and myriad other tasks, still fell to me, and were occasionally stressful or even overwhelming.

All of this created a kind of mental storm throughout May and early June that led to my not writing much. Now, however, things are settling down – Orbit’s reacting well to his meds, and a lot of the busy work around publishing has been done – and so I’m happy to report that I’m starting to “snap back” to my habitual level of productivity.

Some lessons:

1) Self-knowledge and patience are the cure. Procrastination ALWAYS has causes, and the causes are ALWAYS valid. Work to understand and address the causes, and give yourself abundant time to do so, and you should bounce back as quickly as possible – and probably more quickly than you can imagine. You don’t even have to force it.

(Remember that trying to rush the healing process is itself a form of perfectionism.)

2) Bashing yourself – i.e., calling yourself names like “lazy” or “undisciplined” – is hugely counterproductive. Not only do these labels misidentify the problem – which is disempowerment caused by fear, resource constraints, or other factors – they undermine you. So never do it.

3) Productive work, done in a framework of compassionate objectivity, is, in itself, healing.

Barring production delays, The Seven Secrets of the Prolific should be out in August – just in time to help those going of you who are going back to school or work boost your productivity. Meanwhile, you can see a draft of the cover – with an illustration by the fabulously talented Barry Deutsch – here. I’m shortly going to be sending you the Indiegogo appeal asking you to help me fund the project by prepaying for your paperback or ecopy: I’ll appreciate the support, and you’ll also get a great discount. Please keep an eye out for this.

My best wishes to all of you, and especially those struggling through their own difficult days.

“A thought experiment: Suppose you are a parent and you (a) watch someone else’s toddler misbehave and then (b) watch your own toddler do the same. Your predicted reactions, respectively, are: (a) “What a brat!” and (b)”That’s what happens when she skips her nap.”

“Now (b) is often a correct explanation, whereas (a) the “brat” reaction isn’t even an explanation. Thus does love lead to truth. So, too, when a parent sees her child show off and senses that the grandstanding is grounded in insecurity. That’s an often valid explanation – unlike, say, “My neighbor’s kid is such a showoff” and brings insight into human nature.

“Yes, yes, love can warp your perception, too. Still, there is an apprehension of the other – an empathetic understanding – that is at least humanly possible, and it would never have gotten off the ground had love not emerged on this planet as a direct result of Darwinian logic…

“O.K., so your child isn’t special. This doesn’t have to mean she’s not worthy of your love. It could mean instead that other people’s kids are worthy of your love. But it has to mean one or the other. And – especially given that love can bring truth – isn’t it better to expand love’s scope than to narrow it?”

The thing to do with your perfectionist inner critic is NOT to acquiesce to it or try to shut it down – tactics that only increase your fears and exacerbate the problem – but allow it to speak its piece. Here’s how:

First, recognize that the “creator” in you is fragile – not because you’re weak but because creativity is challenging and the world unsupportive; also, most of us are also undermined by perfectionism, ambivalence and internalized oppression. Perfectionism causes us to set unrealistic goals and then, when we inevitably fall short, to bash ourselves via the inner critic in a desperate effort to get back on track. At that point, we can only think of one solution in the face of all that terror and abuse – to get the hell out (i.e., procrastinate).

The missing voice in this scenario is that of the Wise and Compassionate Adult (WCA), and that is the voice you need to build, and listen to, to be prolific. Instead of trying to squelch your critic, have the WCA dialogue with it via journaling:

Perfectionist: That paragraph you just wrote is horrible!
WCA (nondefensively; with honest curiosity): Why do you think that?

Perfectionist: Well, it’s got all these problems… [delineates]
WCA (thoughtfully): Well, you do have a point. That second sentence is really a stinker. And the metaphor in the third one got mangled. And I screwed up the tenses in the fourth…but you know, it’s only a first draft.

Perfectionist (panicking): It’s a really BAD first draft!
WCA (staying calm): Do you really think that? I’m not so sure. Anne Lamott says first drafts are supposed to be “shitty” – and doesn’t it make sense that the first time you try to write something it’s going to have a lot of flaws?

Perfectionist (grudgingly): Well, maybe.
WCA: And, it’s not like the piece is set in stone. We can edit!

Perfectionist: I guess so. But I’m still really worried about what this says about us as a writer.
WCA: What do you think it says?

Perfectionist: That we’re no good. That we have no talent. And that we won’t succeed.
WCA: But nearly all writers write lots of drafts – including really successful ones. Look at some of the stuff we’ve seen in workshops – or even that gets published. And look at the manuscript pages that accompany the Paris Review interviews of famous writers: some of those are loaded with corrections.

Perfectionist: Well, maybe. But – [changing tactics, and building up a fresh head of steam] – if it takes us forever to write a good paragraph then we’ll never finish the book!
WCA: You know – I agree: a paragraph really isn’t much compared with a book. I promise you that I also want to get more writing done, and write better and faster. That’s what I’m working toward.

Perfectionist: [doesn't say anything, but calms down in the face of the validation and support]
WCA: But the franticness and name calling – that hasn’t ever worked for us, has it?

Perfectionist: [resigned] I guess not.
WCA: In fact, it’s blocked us, at times, hasn’t it?

Perfectionist: Yes.
WCA: And isn’t it better to write a little, or slowly, than not at all?

Perfectionist (emphatically): Definitely!
WCA: So would it be okay if we just took things one paragraph at a time for now?

Perfectionist: Okay.
WCA: Great! So let’s get back to our writing, shall we?

(This dialog is a bit condensed to fit within the confines of a blog post, but you get the idea. Always give yourself lots of time and space to thoroughly explore the issues.)

Note how the WCA agrees with the perfectionist’s viewpoint when that viewpoint makes sense. This work is not about denial or setting low standards. Also note also how the WCA keeps the conversation productive by steering it away from name calling and self-abuse, and toward problem solving. A WCA wouldn’t tolerate bullying of herself or anyone else in the real world, and she’s not going to tolerate it in her own head.

Students of mine have described the WCA as the voice of the “wise teacher” or “good grandparent.” Writer L.M. May offers a particularly hilarious incarnation of it in a recent blog post. She describes her inner critic as, “an English professor guy who likes to wear tweed,” and her WCA as “Flo,” who:

“…runs a small trucking company in North Carolina and loves to eat cole slaw burgers for lunch. There’s a stack of James Lee Burke and Nora Roberts paperbacks on the corner of her desk that she likes to read during breaks. Often she wears NASCAR T-shirts. She has 0% patience for whining or crap…When Dr. Inner Critic showed up and wouldn’t shut up during the first draft work I was doing, I imagined sending him off to Flo to whine at her instead about the quality of my writing. Writers, by training, have very vivid imaginations. My imagination gave me a whole short scene of Inner Critic beginning his whine about my writing, and losing steam as Flo glared at him. Then she asked him, “Are you going to do L.M.’s work?” which made him hunch up as he replied, “No.” Then she ripped into him verbally with insults about his stupidity and laziness until he slunk off. I got back to work since there was a quota to meet. Inner Critic left me alone since showing up again would mean another yellfest from Flo.”

I’m not big on insulting a part of yourself – even your inner critic – but Flo’s vehement, “overprotective” approach is just what many writers need to feel safe in the midst of the act of creation. Ovid said that, “Every lover is a warrior,” and every writer needs to be, too: a warrior on behalf of her own creativity.

Like most blogsters, I regularly check my stats to see how much traffic I have, where it’s coming from, etc. Among other things, I see the search terms people use to wind up on my site.

Last night, in the midst of all the usual terms – “perfectionism,” “procrastination,” “writer’s block,” “Hillary Retik”, etc. – I found this: “Why am I so hateful and a perfectionist.” And it kind of broke my heart.

Whoever you are, wherever you are, I hope you read this:

You’re perfectionist because you grew up in a perfectionist culture – as did your parents, friends, neighbors, teachers, etc. Very few of us get out unscathed. Perfectionism is rampant in the media, because perfectionist tropes such as

*rags-to-riches
*overnight success
*lone genius succeeding
*bullying coach leads “loser kids” to victory

make good drama.

Most advertising is also perfectionist. If I can convince you that you are ill-groomed, a bad housekeeper, a bad parent, or in other ways a “loser,” I can create fear in you, and then sell you products to allay that fear.

Many people (including parents and teachers) promote perfectionism because they confuse it with having high standards. Let’s get clear on this: high standards are great. But perfectionism is about setting unreasonable, unachievable standards and punishing yourself harshly for failing to meet them. Perfectionists also suffer from a whole host of other symptoms, including overidentification with the work (so that any “failure” becomes a kind of ego-demolition), short-sightedness (the current work becomes a do-or-die matter), labeling (“I’m a total failure!”) and invidious comparisons (“Trollope wrote for hours each morning before putting in a full day of work, so I should be able to do that, too!”).

Dear Reader, being a perfectionist doesn’t mean you’re hateful: it only means you’re normal. It also means you care – since perfectionism is typically an affliction of caring, compassionate people who are striving to do well while honorably meeting their obligations and responsibilities. Please don’t bash yourself. Just work on overcoming your perfectionism and you’ll be fine.

And, Reader: the thing to do whenever you find yourself asking a rhetorical question about yourself is to answer it.

Whoever you are, wherever you are, I’m wishing you peace and love.

A novelist with writer’s block (blocks being an extreme form of procrastination) may be afraid of not selling her book, getting a bad review, or offending relatives or others with what she’s written.

Someone whose lifelong dream has been to start a business may procrastinate on doing so because he’s afraid of failing – or succeeding and having many new responsibilities and demands placed on him.

In the short term, procrastination works well: by not finishing (or starting!) your project, you are indeed protected from its scary potential outcome(s). In the long term, however, procrastination can lead to a bitter, unfulfilled life. So it’s a good idea to work with coaches, therapists or others to learn to cope with any fears holding you back.

It also helps if you understand the specific form your procrastination takes. One common form, of course, is escapist or mindless activities such as video games, Web surfing or television. While a little of these kinds of diversions can be fun and a stress reliever, too much is a tragic waste of time – or a life.

There’s also another, even more pernicious form of procrastination: activities that mimic productive work.

So, the unhappy employee reads endless want ads and career books, but never gets around to applying for a new job.

The novelist does endless research, but never gets around to writing. Or, he writes the same chapter over and over…and over and over…again – sometimes for years.

The would-be entrepreneur takes business classes, but never gets around to doing her business plan. Or does the plan, but doesn’t carry it out.

All these people probably believe they’re making progress toward their goal, so they don’t feel as guilty as if they had played video games. They may not even recognize their “faux productivity” for the procrastination problem it is. But they are still unlikely to reach their goal, and still at risk for a bitter, unfulfilled life.

Faux productivity also takes two other common forms:

1) Good works, in which the procrastinator spends a lot of his or her time helping family members or friends, or doing volunteer or community work. I am not against good works! I’m not even against doing them full-time, if that’s what you really want to be doing. But it’s all too easy to get sucked into helping other people at the expense of your own needs and priorities, particularly if you’re afraid of possible outcomes. The solution is to budget and schedule your time so that you help other people AND take care of your own needs; and you will probably also have to learn, if you don’t know it already, that essential time management skill, saying “no.”

And the other common form of faux productivity is…drumroll…

2) Housework. The way it works is often this: it’s your scheduled time to work on your project. Suddenly, however, you feel an irresistible need to do the laundry, mop the floor, shop for groceries, mow the lawn, or clean out the garage. Probably, the need isn’t truly urgent — or, at least, no more urgent than it was a few hours ago, or will be a few hours from now, after you’ve finished your work. The sudden, irresistible urgency is the clue that it’s not really the laundry itself that’s important, but your need to procrastinate and avoid making progress.

Here’s the thing about housework: it’s really boring and unfulfilling. And often actively unpleasant. And then, after you’ve done it, you need to do it again in a week or two. Blech.

19th and 20th century feminists recognized housework for what it was: tedium, and an impediment to individual and societal liberation. Thankfully, it’s a lot easier to keep house today than it was 100 years ago; and yet, many people continue to fritter away their lives doing excess housework when there’s something more meaningful they’d like to accomplish. That’s partly because there’s usually something around that needs cleaning, so it’s a handy excuse, but also because some societal elements have long made a fetish of housework. For centuries, literally, social conservatives have promoted the idea of the selfless (in both senses of the word) wife and mother who devotes herself 100% to housework and others’ needs. And the media promotes an unrealistic, perfectionist view of what a “normal” home looks like because that view sells products and advertising. (The latter afflicts both women and men, as any guy who spends his Saturdays doing yardwork when he’d rather be doing something else can testify.) Of course, conservatives and the media rarely discuss the costs, in time, money and lost opportunities, of maintaining a showpiece home. (And these aren’t the only costs: doctors believe that antibacterial and other “hypercleanliness” products can actually make us sick by impeding immune system development and triggering allergies and chemical sensitivites.)

And people do get the message. I have found that a major reason people do more housework than they want is that they’re fearful of family criticism. (Women seem particularly fearful of criticism from their mothers and sisters.) There’s also a lot of intra- and inter-family competition out there on this front.

Another common problem is not knowing how to manage time. Many people think time management is about stuffing as much as possible into your schedule, so they think it’s reasonable to expect, for instance, that, even though they have a job, they should be able to do the same amount of housework as their stay-at-home mom did. What time management is really about, however, is eliminating as much as possible from your schedule so you can get the important stuff done. It’s also about making conscious decisions about how you spend your time. So, assuming you have 112 awake hours in your week (which you do if you get 8 hours of sleep a night), and 50 of those hours go to your job and commute, how will you spend the remaining 62 hours? That’s a huge amount of time, when you think about it: enough to create art, do civic work, or build a business, while also nurturing your family, having fun, staying healthy and, yes, doing some housework. But you will need to make deliberate choices about how you will spend your time and not procrastinate much.

How many of your precious 62 hours will you devote to mopping, laundry, food shopping, etc? As few as possible, I hope, especially if you’ve put your life dreams, health, relationships, or other important values on the back burner.

To be clear, I’m not against you doing loads of housework if that is indeed what you want to be doing. I only object to it when it conflicts with more important goals.

I’m also not saying to give up the activities you happen to like. If you enjoy garden work or cooking, then go for it! Just make sure your motive isn’t procrastination.

I am also not saying you should live in a dirty home. In fact, here are steps you can take to reduce the time you spend on housework and still live in a clean space:

(1) Live simply, and don’t buy too much stuff. Everything you buy costs you twice: the initial purchase price, and the time and money you spend keeping it cleaned and maintained. For this reason, also be ruthless about getting rid of furniture, clothing, appliances and other possessions you no longer use.

(2) Organize your space. A well-organized home with adequate storage space, and where everything is stored close to where it is used, takes much less time to clean than a disorganized one.

(3) Organize your time. Treat housework not like an open-ended stream of chores, but a finite project you need to complete within a fixed period of time each week. Time-budget each chore (dishes, dusting, etc.), and also each room. Then keep track of your actual time use. By doing this, you will often work more efficiently.

(4) Invest in quality tools and supplies. Buy a good vacuum cleaner that gets all the dirt on the first pass, or a powerful lawn mower that makes that chore go faster. (And let at least part of your lawn go au naturale.) Keep a broom or mop conveniently in every room that sees heavy traffic. Buy closet and other organizers, and any time you see a cleaning gadget you think will save you time, or make an unpleasant task easier, buy it.

(5) Delegate. Everyone in the household should be helping with the housework. Everyone. Even two year olds can pick up their own toys.

It can be difficult to ask people to take on chores you have been doing, but the key is not just to ask for help but explain why you need the help. Often, when we explain our cherished goals, and ask for help attaining them, people willingly pitch in.

It’s also a good idea not to simply tell people what chores you’d like them to take on, but solicit their input on solving your (really, the household’s) time problem. That makes them feel more involved and valued, and they’ll also be more invested in a solution they helped create. So don’t just say, “I really need Bob to do the laundry, and Sarah to take charge of the dog, and Billy to cook two meals a week…” but something like, “As you know, I’ve always felt so bad about not finishing my degree, but I would really like to finish it by next year. To do that, I need to take two classes each semester, but to do that, I need to do less around the house. Could I have your ideas on how this could happen?” Then, during the brainstorming part of the ensuing discussion, you can list your ideas along with everyone else’s. And if Bob volunteers to do the laundry, and Sarah, to take care of the dog, and Billy, the meals — or, if they come up with even better ideas – so much the better.

What if, despite your best efforts, people won’t help? That’s a sad situation, but doesn’t leave you optionless. You can still look at the way you spend your time, and make at least some changes to it.

(6) Outsource. Of course, I know it’s a bad economy, but if you happen to have the money, then by all means hire a cleaning, laundry or lawn service. Or, get takeout meals or use a grocery delivery service so you don’t have to stand in line at the supermarket and lug heavy bags home. If you feel guilty doing any of this, (a) don’t, and (b) pay or tip the workers lavishly: I promise you they won’t mind. Don’t think that only rich or decadent people pay someone to help with household chores: plenty of “ordinary” people do as well, including plenty with impeccable progressive bona fides. Outsourcing is a key strategy for people with an ambitious life mission such as art, activism or entrepreneurship – or who simply would rather devote their time elsewhere than cleaning up.

And, finally, (7) lower your standards! Yes, you want a clean, well-organized home – but do you need a fanatically, perfectionistically clean one?

Is it really necessary for you to mop the floors every week?

Is it a terrible thing to leave the sheets on the bed for an extra few days before laundering them?

Is it a sin to serve your family a take-out meal or (my favorite) bring a store-bought dish to a pot-luck dinner?

Is it necessary to keep your lawn trimmed to golf-course neatness?

The answer to all of these questions, for many people, is “no.” Everyone’s situation varies, of course — and a high-density household generally requires more cleaning than a low-density one, just as one with companion animals requires more cleaning than one without. Or, if you are a highly visual person, you may require an exceptionally neat home, or a higher-maintenance one with more furniture or other design elements. All of these are fine reasons to do more than the minimum level of housework, but just make sure you’re not overdoing it, or doing it at the expense of more important goals. In general, if the only reason you are doing a household task is because, (a) you think you’re supposed to, or (b) “what will people say?” then get over it and start living your life comfortably and guilt-free according to your own values.

I tend to be skeptical of New Year’s resolutions, which tend to be grandiose and built more around impulse than planning. But if you’re going to do one, how about this one: 10% less time spent on housework in 2012.

Or, if you can achieve 20%, even better.

Here’s to a happier, more relaxed, more productive — and messier — 2012!

We see a similar dynamic in antiperfectionism work. Perfectionists see themselves as constantly failing, and they also spend a lot of time putting themselves down for those perceived failures. (A good perfectionist knows how to even magically transform successes into failures.) So, one of the most important “cures” is to learn to recognize and reward even trivial-seeming successes with:

1. a tangible reward, such as a cookie, new DVD, bubble bath or some other indulgence
2. a physical reward–important especially for writing and other sedentary activities. Stretches and Snoopy dances are both great! And, most importantly,
3. an honest sense of accomplishment and pride. I’m not talking about giddy glee, which, unless it accompanies a real milestone, is misplaced (and signifies a perfectionist overidentification with the work)–but something quieter and more private. It still feels good, though!

People get hung up on #3 in particular because “first steps” often seem trivial. In the work of overcoming perfectionism and procrastination, for instance, the first step is often learning to sit and write nonjudgmentally for thirty seconds to five minutes at a time. That may indeed be a trivial amount of time for a prolific writer, but for one who hasn’t written anything for weeks or months it’s a legitimate, powerful first step, and one worth celebrating. When someone is reluctant to celebrate a small accomplishment, I always ask them two questions: (1) Why not celebrate? and (2) Whom does celebrating hurt? The answers, it always turns out, are: (1) No reason, and (2) No one. It’s your terror-fueled inner perfectionist who is afraid to celebrate because she thinks that if she’s not hyper-vigilant you will slack off. Trust me: celebrations don’t degrade productivity but reinforce it, and you should never listen to your inner perfectionist voice.

So, here’s what happens when you take things to the limit:

1) You’ll get a much better result than if you take things only partway.

2) You’ll internalize the lesson more. Often, when we take things halfway it’s because we get the lesson intellectually but not at the deeper level of emotions and values. Taking things to the limit helps you internalize and integrate the knowledge, and change your perspective.

And that means you’ll be poised for yet more growth and accomplishment.

Hmmm…all this gets me in the mood to do a Snoopy dance. Won’t you join me?

Underproductive ones, in contrast, are likely to be found working on crappy equipment in dank basements with the mold and spiders and last season’s wardrobe.

Be this writer:

Not this one:

Cartoons by the great Barry Deutsch.

This great cartoon by the great Barry Deutsch from my new book The Seven Secrets of the Prolific illustrates the central challenge of productivity. Everyone encounters obstacles to production. A’s surmount them with a minimum of effort and delay; B’s organize their life and work so that the obstacle doesn’t happen or isn’t perceived as such; C’s get derailed. The Seven Secrets of the Prolific tells you how to evolve from a C to A to B.