Organising your projects so the work gets done
Sheryl Garratt
I coach creative professionals. Because creative work matters. Follow me for posts about creative process, and making a good living from your work.
Work, in the 21st century, is never really done.
Most of us are juggling far too much. We are on-call 24/7, and there's always one more thing we could do (and then another). It's no wonder we all have to-do lists longer than our arms and a constant feeling of falling behind.
Organising our work into projects helps with this.
So let's start with some definitions.
A?project?is a creative task with a clearly defined beginning and end, that can't be completed in a single work session (otherwise it would just be a task on your to-do list).?
As well as projects, you also have more on-going, permanent parts of your life: your job, your business, your health, your home, your family and friends.?
I like to call these?Areas of Responsibility. These are important, but never fully 'done', and crossed off your list.?
Further distinctions
With a project, you set clear parameters so that you know when it's done, roughly how long it might take – and what success looks like, for this version of it. (Because you can always go back to it, later.) When it's finished, you put it out into the world for people to use or enjoy. And you move onto your next project.?
With areas of responsibility, it's more about setting standards, a base level you try to achieve. It's also about balance: you won't be perfect in all areas, all the time. But you never want to neglect one of them for long.
You schedule in time for staying healthy; keeping in touch with friends and family; looking after your home, your family, your pets. But your standards in each area will vary, depending what else you have on.?
You might be willing, for instance, to have a messier house and miss a few social events while you get a big project over the line. But you might not want to compromise on your health and fitness, or the attention you give to close family.?
Whenever we start a major new project, we need to look at how it might impact on our areas of responsibility, and decide if and where we're willing to make compromises.?
A project is only active if you're working on it.?
If you have 'Finish album' on your to-list but you're not writing songs, rehearsing, recording, it's not a project. It's a wish, a dream. Which is fine, but it shouldn't be cluttering up your current to-do list.?
Keep a separate list of future projects, and review this list regularly, pulling new projects into your active list when you're ready – and have the time and space – to take action on them.?
You can only juggle a few projects at once.
For me, the limit is five active projects, across my work life but also my personal life. For you, it might be less. If you think you can handle more, by all means try. But monitor it; if any of your active projects are not making measurable progress, then you've taken on too much.
Having to choose means you focus on what's important, instead of ticking trivia off your list to feel 'productive'. It's paradoxical, but true: when you focus on less, you get more done.?
Projects will move in and out of your active list.
There are times when you can do no more on a project, because it's waiting for input from others. When your book manuscript has gone to an agent, for instance. When your film is trapped in development hell. Or when a song has gone out to a collaborator.?
Here you decide on your next action – chasing up your agent in a month's time, for instance, or getting in touch with your musical collaborator – and you schedule this, putting it on your calendar so it resurfaces at the right time. Then you move on to another project.?
Set milestones in big projects.
Everyone's markers will be different. What's important is that you have some means of measuring your progress. Set targets, and find a way to celebrate when you hit each one.?
If you're writing a book, for instance, your milestones could be about how many words you've written, how many hours writing you've put in, whether you're on the first, second, third or final draft.?
Choose your milestones carefully, and be flexible. Again, you'll get better at this over time.?
One of my clients celebrated each time she wrote 10,000 words of her debut novel. This worked well until she reached the 70,000-word mark, when her count started to go backwards. Plot holes emerged, she cut a chapter and a couple of characters, the book got shorter and she felt she was working hard, but getting nowhere.?
I pointed out that this too was progress: the story was getting tighter, clearer as she realised what was needed to bring the action to a satisfactory end.?
So she changed her milestones and celebrated each time she'd put another 50 hours into the project. And slowly, the problems resolved and the word-count ticked back up.
She's now researching agents, and her next milestone is sending her novel out to them.?
Set deadlines for each milestone.
But don't be too rigid about it. No one dies if your first draft takes a month longer than you thought it would, if you set out to make five paintings but end up instead with three sculptures.
We're not turning out widgets on an assembly line, and creative work can be unpredictable. It involves wrong turns, dead ends, interesting mistakes that turn out to be brilliant.
We often wildly overestimate how much we can do in a day, a week, a month. Tracking your progress helps you be more realistic when you set deadlines for the next milestone.?
The good news? We also tend to underestimate how much we can achieve over years of steady, consistent work. This is how a substantial body of work gets made, new directions are explored, reputations built: a few hours at a time.
Plan, but don't over-plan.
Start before you're ready. Don't wait for conditions to be perfect, for the decks to be cleared, to get all your ducks in a row. (Because conditions never will be perfect: that's life.)?
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Getting stuck in the planning stage can be a form of procrastination. You mind-map, you research, you make lists, you clear your space, you buy tools and materials.. Yet you never really start work.?
If this is you, just jump in.?Begin.?Give yourself permission to do it badly at first, if needs be. You learn so much more in the making, the shaping than you do from over-thinking it all.?
But a little thought?before?you begin can be useful.
For a big project like writing a book or renovating a room, I might take an hour or so and answer the questions below in depth. For a shorter project (booking a trip; writing a series of blog posts), I'll run through it much more quickly, giving short answers to the questions that feel most relevant.?
How does this help? It sets boundaries, gets you clear on what you're making/doing, who it is for, what its purpose is for you, what success looks like. For me, writing that down stops me over-complicating (because given the chance, I always will).
Predicting how I'll get in my own way means that when I start over-researching, writing more than I intended, or otherwise making the whole thing harder than it needs be, I notice faster. I remember that I set out to create a four-page PDF, not write War And Peace. Or that we're only going away for the weekend, so I don't have to spend weeks looking at every single hotel in a city, hoping to book the perfect one.
Below are the questions I use. You're welcome to use them, and adapt them to your own work.?
Organising a new project:
WHY
WHAT
HOW
WHEN
I then check my calendar, and block out times to do the work.?
Constraints are important.?
When I was a journalist, the deadline was my constraint. There was a point when I'd have to stop reporting, stop interviewing people, and actually?write.
Now that my projects are mostly self-directed, I've found that they will expand infinitely, if I let them. A blog post will turn into a book, a workshop into a two-month course.?
Which is fine, except they never get done. And I've no idea if anyone even wants them. Far better to get a short, imperfect version out first, to test the waters.?Then if I want to revisit it later, I have real feedback, useful information to go on.
Stop scope creep
Many of us never finish personal projects because they keep expanding. We keep tweaking, polishing, adding because we want it to be perfect, before we share it.
So it never gets done, never gets in front of an audience – and we rob ourselves of the opportunity to learn and grow, to see people enjoy our work, be moved by it, informed by it, or find it useful.
Again, constraints help here. I remind myself that this is just one version of my idea, a Minimum Viable Product or a stepping stone to something bigger. I can always go back to it later and improve it, expand it.
Finishing a project, and letting it go
Done? Take a few minutes to close the project out, before rushing onto the next thing.
Once a project is finished and ticked off my list, I analyse it, archive it, and file anything I might be able to reuse later.
If the project has stalled for some reason, or I no longer want or need to finish it, I'll still close it down, adding some notes about why it was abandoned, what I learned, and what actions I'd need to take if I ever decide to go back to it.
For me, this is what closing looks like:
Then I answer these questions:
Now the most important part: celebrate!
It's important to enjoy what you've achieved and celebrate it before rushing on to the next project or task on your list.
For a big project like a book or film, perhaps this means a holiday, a day out, a fancy dinner. But completing even a small project deserves to be marked with a walk, a coffee, a chat with a friend, a dance around your workspace with music on loud.
Be playful. Treat yourself. Be proud of what you've done, finished, made. Life feels less of a grind when you do. Because this was supposed to be fun, no?
PS The distinction between projects and areas of responsibility comes from Tiago Forte's book Building A Second Brain. If you want to know more, I wrote about it in detail here.