Binge writing

The last day of classes at Bryn Mawr is better known as "the end of written work" (declaimed in the same tone James Earl Jones might use for "the end of the world as we know it.")  After 5 pm today, the only piece of work I may require of (or accept from) students is a final exam or paper.  Late work requires authorization from the dean.  So there have been flurry of very firm deadlines facing my students this week in every class, and predictably they are pretty sleep deprived.

I can empathize. I went to sleep some time after 2 am Friday morning after a day spent binge writing a piece for Slate magazine.  On many levels, this sort of writing binge can be fun.  Now that Crash is away at Wonderful Jesuit University and writing (whiling?) away the night hours at the library, I have some virtual company while on an authorial bender.  We compare progress, we commiserate, we cheer each other on — all via text message.  There is a bit of nostalgia to it all, too.  When I was in high school and college, I spent many late night hours drinking endless cups of tea and typing papers at the kitchen table.  With five younger siblings it was the only time I could be sure of quiet!

These days it's amusing to see how lively my virtual life could be at those hours.  Between their residence in other time zones and their teen-tuned circadian rhythms, many of my nieces and nephews are posting away.  Student emails fly in (are they shocked when they get an answer back at 1 am, I wonder?). All things considered, though, I prefer a more contemplative pace when I write, and the chance it brings to let my prose marinate.

Like binge drinking, binge writing has risks.  I lose perspective, though unlike alcohol¹, which I suspect makes think you are better than you are, I tend to think my binge writing is awful, perhaps as bad as the paper this faculty member received.   And there is a serious downside to all that caffeine, unlike my college-aged self, I can't just topple into bed and fall asleep once I'm done.  I hit send on the email at 1:01 am, but had to wait another hour to unravel enough to climb into bed.

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1.  I discovered at the Santa Fe Science Writing Workshop that alcohol and writing don't mix well.  It's not that it lowers my inhibition, it lowers my hourly word count. To zero.  One beer and I just sit there happily with my hands on the keyboard.  A lovely Assam on the other hand?  That works like a charm....