My God the wall clock is loud this evening. It's 10:40pm on Saturday night. I've been at my desk since 9:00am this morning. Apart from an hour away to walk the dogs, an hour to go to the market, and a hour or so to run errands, I've been here, at my desk, working.

This is no different from every other day of the week. I'm obsessed. Either I'm rewriting scenes from a screenplay, or I'm refactoring an old play I'm trying to breathe new life into, or I'm writing content for Substack. Sometimes I'm working in Obsidian, my note taking app, reorganizing folders and looking for new plug-ins to help streamline the connection between the different levels of my consciousness. Sometimes I'm just thinking.

Occasionally, I'll play a game to empty my mind. I find games act like a mental vacuum cleaner, sucking up debris from the sulci in my brain and giving everything a thorough going over before it's expected to do any serious thinking (I was going to say "brain grooves" but I looked it up and sulci is an excellent word). I'm not really playing the game; I'm letting my brain soak for 15 minutes before getting back to work. There are a few games that do the job well. The Binding of Isaac, FTL (Faster Than Light), Into The Breach. They fit certain criteria: quick loading, easy to pick up after a save, high replay value, lots of achievements and skills to master. I have to watch that I don't become too immersed, but as long as I hear that ticking clock, I'll be fine.

My perception of that ticking clock changes from day to day. Some days there is no clock. The writing flows out of me; I can hit 8 pages of a screenplay on a good day and end with a clear picture of what's next. On those days I don't hear any ticking. Even if I try, I can't hear it. I have to look at the second hand to isolate it from the constant drone of Los Angeles life.

Some days I'm behind, or I've set myself a dubious milestone. Then, the ticking is ever present; an incessant, rhythmic heartbeat. Stressful, yet reliable. It's letting me know I need to deliver. It won't stop and neither should I. On those days, I may lose it for a few hours when the flow comes, but it will always come back, usually to remind me I need to take a break.

I went without a clock for several months when my old one fell off the wall and shattered into hundreds of pieces. I put meaning into the event, convincing myself that it was a sign. We Don't Need No Clock Control.

I hated it. I found myself looking at the empty space on the wall constantly, then shifting my focus to my task bar to check the time. A minor distraction to the work, but a distraction none the less. I would find myself thinking it was lunch at 10:30 instead of my usual 10:45. Something was off. Could it be as simple as not having a clock? Well, no - but perhaps that was playing a role. Time for a pros/cons list:

PRO: It gives me a clear understanding of the value of my time. I cannot procrastinate. Time is finite and nothing will progress without my action. It does not happen on its own. I must do it, and not by waiting till the last possible moment either; I'm not cramming for an exam. Work is a life skill, not a passing moment to get through unscathed. Life requires good pacing, and every good coach has a stopwatch.

CON: It takes my freedom. I cannot leave my desk without stressing because I know that clock is there, watching me. I cannot take time off without feeling like an oath-breaker. I made a commitment and when I don't follow my routine my whole day feels out of whack. Freelance isn't free. I may set my own schedule, but my boss is an asshole and never gives time off.

PRO: It gives me rewards, by letting me know when I have achieved my goal. I have had days where I look at the clock and it’s noon, and I feel like I wrote the shit out of the day. I can down keys without any guilt and I feel good about it. That reward is sweet, and rare, and I crave it.

CON: It takes my spontaneity and forces me to write even when I have nothing in me.

PRO: It teaches me discipline which allows me to write even when I have nothing in me.

I bought a new clock.

Aside from reclaimed those precious few seconds per month, the ticking clock is an ally that frequently pisses you off but keeps delivering results. Creatives need milestones. We need deliverables. We need producers, and directors, and editors, and pressure. We need to be held accountable. The clock on the wall, in what can be a terribly lonely profession, is a reliable friend.

You have to manage the clock.

A Ticking Clock