Time Is A Construct

Or How Ariadne's Time Is Eaten; Day Of The Dark Creative Writer

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This piece is part of ‘Day of the ___ Writer’ an open collab on the daily experiences behind our writing. Post on your pub about your day, and check out our growing mosaic of many lives.

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I was invited by Nikki | Nocturnal Narrator to share my day, and as the Good Vampire™ I am, I am always happy to accept an invitation.

And, yes, Happy Nielsen there are such things as Good Vampires. And we aren’t always just friends. We’re often friendless, family-less, authors haunting spaces we’re forever on the edge of.

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One thing you must accept, from the outset, is that I have way more commitments and accomplish way more than the hours would suggest I’ve got available. The ability I have to do this is way above what you’re ready for.

Or authorised to know.

And relies on a whole load of scheduling, diaries, and determination.

Not to mention the ever-present pirouettes I make on the knife-edge of burnout.

However, between the hours of 08:00 and 15:30 I have the Day Job. This job involves much I’m not at liberty to explain, so just assume I’m doing something magical and whimsical, which almost enables me to pay my bills.

Every manipulated-minute outside of this time is mine to tease and play with in every possible way I could imagine. And my imagination does some pretty fun things.

So many fun, dark, diabolical, spicy things.

I’ve got AuADHD, so I have all the discipline and all the creativity. It’s a dangerous combination which permits me to do many things which have resulted in… [I’ll let you figure out the consequences for this, and what my search history looks like].

Over my long centuries of existence, the improvements to technology have revolutionised things somewhat and ensured I could achieve so much more than I’d been able to do.

Before the internet, things were so much more difficult.

And while people could be employed to obtain and deliver what I needed, these days there are far too many forms and too much paperwork involved.

And while I can use time as I wish, I’d rather not spend eternity completing Form 223.

Forget I mentioned that… you don’t need to know about the forms.

Though I may procrastinate about leaving my torture device bed, due to an inordinate amount of pain, my familiar¹ does insist on ensuring I’m up early. And the disembodied Australian man² which tells me the time, weather, and random facts, does enjoy sounding ridiculously cheerful at far too small an hour to be healthy.

His role is, however, necessary as the provision of sunrise and sunset is vital.

But being up early allows for meditation (the chance to stop time), pilates (the chance to extend time), tarot readings (to understand time), offerings for my altar (to respect those who control time), and breakfast before the Day Job. Caffeine is very required. Copious amounts of caffeine.

And medication. So much medication.

(It’s all prescribed. Okay, most of it is prescribed. I’ve a long list of conditions with acronyms and side-effects which make every moment a joy.)

At lunch time (if I manage to have one) or breaks (hahaha) I get to read the emails I get from fellow Substack creators. (I may also read some when I get a quiet moment during the Day Job too… that secret’s safe, yes? Yes? Answer carefully.)

And while I may not get chance to click through and show my appreciation there and then, I always will later. Because those likes and comments make a difference to me when I receive them, and I want to make a difference to you.

I’ll also try and provide an update on my Notes feed too, throughout the day, so you all know I’m alive. Or at the very least presenting a functional version of an alive human. Does this stress the point I’m alive too much?

Once the Day Job is done… then the fun really starts. I can read, and read, and read some more. All those emails which I didn’t get around to. And whichever of the too many books I’m reading (always one on my Kindle, one paperback fiction, one non-fiction research book, one on audio, and one non-fiction book to further my understanding of my pagan craft).

I’ll still be reading while I prepare dinner.

And eat dinner.

Because, despite my age, I still need food. It’s incredibly frustrating, but necessary.

Apparently.

I then give myself an hour to write - every day. That’s a structured hour - not just the random thoughts which come that get scribed into a notebook, or my voice notes, etc. which can happen any time. Sometimes that hour looks like me seated before my laptop, or a notebook, and doing nothing but thinking. Because, that allows my mind to travel. My thoughts to explore. Sometimes that hour looks like a thousand words, or more, thrown onto the screen.

Learning to touch type when such devices first appeared really helped. It’s so much easier than crushing the souls of my enemies to form ink, and sharpen feathers to create quills.

Photo by Ina RH on Unsplash

Music is a must; it’s my biggest vice.

Music helps me feel. Without it, there’s only numbness. Emptiness.

And that a writer does not make.

I’ve a whole litany of trauma and darkness to draw from… but I need to find balance, because that’s life (or so I’ve been told). So, I must find the love, the joy, the moments of happiness which I’ve failed to achieve… and music gives me that. It’s why as soon as I’m done with the Day Job, music is turned on. And music stays on until I decide I must return to bed.

Of course, as an indie author, I also need to dedicate some time for marketing. It’s a forty-five minute eternity every night which I complete while having something distracting on screen. Music off, albeit briefly.

Is it even effective use of time if I’m not multi-tasking?

I just don’t know any other way to function.

And being a being capable of multiple streams of thought, of action, and understanding… multi-tasking is utterly normal. I’ve honed the skill over centuries decades. And therefore need little to survive.

Discipline used appropriately works wonders.

And I’ve become a Mistress of Discipline.

It’s how I’ve managed to get eight books published, how I’ve got many, many more planned, in process, and stories and poems floating around in my head, in the aether, and on here. I’m too stubborn to quit, no matter how fucking exhausted I am - because time is mine to wield. And I’ll use every single attosecond³ to my whim.

And why you’ll find me online usually only at specific times, and plan everything out meticulously, so I can achieve everything I desire. Though, also means I can’t stick to a task - and this ‘day in the life’ has devolved into a rambling dissection of my life…

But, hopefully, you get the idea.

I don’t sleep, I have a writing schedule, I read, I work, I think… I create. Time is a construct which tried to define me, but I refuse to be defined.

I’ve worked too damn hard to be restrained by what hours I’m offered.

Oh, and I write in my journal and read one more book before bed… a page a day type book for the year of folklore and magical tales. Because a small dose of magic before sleep enables me to stare at the ceiling for a few hours until I repeat everything again.

Photo by Peppered Pixels Design Studio on Unsplash

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You can get a feel for the vibes I live by by listening to my eclectic Labyrinth playlist which is where everything gets added - best played on shuffle.

And, if you’d like to have a look at the kinds of things such discipline and darkness produces, my website has all my books and their information.

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1. Familiar - otherwise known as Nanuq, the small polar bear of a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel who believes himself to be in charge of the house, and probably is, and who enjoys interrupting every attempt I make to record audio or video.

2. Okay, okay… it’s only the voice. Just the voice. From a speaker. Because there are other forms I’d need for anything else, and would require far too much maintenance, rope, and the necessity for keys.

3. An attosecond (1.2 x 10^-17 seconds) where a second is measured as 9,192,631,770 cycles of the radiation that corresponds to the transition between two electron spin energy levels of the ground state of the caesium atom, called the SI. So, an attosecond to a second is the equivalent of a second to 31.69 billion years, give or take. Please check my maths, I may enjoy science, but I am not an expert.