The Summer Shift: wobbly workflow

As we head into November and the days get shorter, I’ve been looking back on what’s been an up-and-down summer, and not just in terms of the weather.

Back in July, I wrote about a shift in what I’m working on, away from a long-term lexicography project and back to the regular freelance juggling act. The lexicography work hasn’t finished altogether, but from the start of August, I dropped down to significantly fewer hours. I had a new writing project lined up and I thought I’d managed to arrange my schedule to balance the two projects fairly evenly for the remainder of the year. So, how’s that been going?

Delays, delays, delays

The new project, writing a workbook for a new coursebook series, was due to use authoring software that I’d been told would need setting up before I got started. This was pencilled in to happen towards the end of July/beginning of August, then I was due to start work on my first unit at the end of August. The set-up, which I thought might take a couple of days, turned out to be incredibly messy and dragged on in dribs and drabs for weeks – waiting for replies to emails about problems I hit, waiting to arrange a call with an IT person and all hampered by the fact it was summer and key people were ‘on leave’.

Frustratingly, at the same time, there were changes going on in my lexicography work too which left me unable to carry on at several points as I waited for things to be implemented in-house. Those delays weren’t especially long, but just happened to coincide with the delays on the other project leaving me twiddling my thumbs and watching my income slip away. It might seem nice to have time ‘off’ right in the middle of summer, but they were the kind of delays where I was checking my email each day hoping for progress, so I couldn’t really use the time to do much else. And all round, it left me with worringly few paid hours through August.

And we’re off!

The software issues finally got resolved at the start of September and I got started on some writing just a week or so later than planned. I settled into the rhythm I’d envisaged for a couple of weeks, with roughly a third of my weekly hours on dictionary work and two-thirds on the writing project.

Because it was the first unit of a new project, there was a bit of time waiting for feedback and redrafting, then the unit had to be passed up the line for approval before I could carry on. Annoyingly, this once again coincided with a bit of a pause in my lexicography work and a few days of thumb-twiddling. Luckily, I had a talk to prep, so managed to fill the time productively, albeit unpaid.

October overload

I’d hoped to make a start on my next WB unit before I went away to the Euralex conference at the start of October, but for various reasons, it didn’t happen. That left me playing catch-up for a couple of weeks when I got back and working well over the number of hours I’d usually put in at my desk. It was only a handful of extra hours, but because it was a new project and new software, the extra focus and concentration involved really took its toll on me physically.

Finding my flow

As I’ve explained before, in order to manage a chronic pain condition, I need to work in relatively short bursts spread out through the day and through the week with plenty of breaks in-between. That’s super-easy with lexicography work that breaks down naturally into short stints. Activities for a workbook should also be fairly modular, but as this is for C1 level and each unit includes relatively long reading and listening texts, it’s easy to get caught up and spend longer stretches at my desk focused on getting a section sorted and not wanting to interrupt the flow while I’ve got everything clear in my head. The authoring software is also proving to be especially fiddly, which means greater stress and tension through my shoulders and hands manipulating the mouse to get the formatting correct.

When I talk about work taking a strain on my health, people often tell me to “be careful” and “take it easy”. I know the comments are well meant, but they’re also slightly grating because they infer that it’s somehow my fault and that I should just organize my work better so that it didn’t impact my health … which of course, is vastly easier said than done! When you’re trying to get your head around a complex new project, dealing with various inevitable stress factors (delays, miscommunication, looming deadlines) and you’re also under financial pressure, “taking it easy” isn’t always feasible.

Settling down

Thankfully, the writing project does seem to be settling down, with some of those initial teething problems sorted out. I’ve also pushed back a bit on the schedule, which has concertinaed up slightly from what I’d originally envisaged. I don’t want to extend deadlines too much because it’s a fee-based project, so if I take longer working on it, I effectively lose income, but a bit of shuffling by the odd day here and there, I think will make for a slightly easier workflow. 

Deadlines on sticky notes to allow for reshuffling!

 

Last week was moving towards being a slightly better balance of hours and towards the end of the week, there was a sense of feeling more on top of things. This weekend was also my first fully non-working weekend in several weeks (although I did write this blog post!). So, I’m hoping I can find a better workflow through November and December at least … before the added stress of needing to find new work from January onwards starts to kick in! It’s making me wonder how I’ve managed for the past 25 years of freelancing! A few easy years of ticking along with one project and I feel like I’ve rather lost the knack of the freelance juggle.

Disability Pride month: writing with one arm behind your back

July is disability pride month and at the start of the month, I attended a webinar by the Authors with Disabilities and Chronic Illnesses (ADCI) group of the Society of Authors. At the time, I was laid low with Covid, but it provided lots of food for thought and I’ve been mulling it over since.

My situation

I don’t think of myself as having a disability, but I have been living – and working – with chronic pain for more than 20 years. It’s something I’ve written about previously and how it affects my ability to work. A few years ago, it was really debilitating with constant pain throughout my upper body that left me struggling with even the basics of life. As is common with chronic pain sufferers, the pain volume control on my nervous system had got turned right up to the max.

Thankfully, over the past few years, I’ve got my condition much more under control and have dialled things back to just the site of my original injury – a dislocated right collarbone. I now spend a lot of my time pain-free and the pains I do experience are localized and often no more than passing tweaks and twinges.  However, whilst things are hugely better than they were, I’ve discovered that I still need to operate within certain limits. Last year, I started on a new project that involved quite focused, detailed sort of work. It didn’t take long for my pains to flare up again quite badly and I realized I couldn’t overdo things. After a few weeks, I reduced the number of hours I was working and things settled down again. Since then, I’ve been working 15 hours a week on my main project, with a handful of extra hours on admin and other small projects, up to a maximum of 20 hours a week. And that seems to be a comfortable, sustainable level.

It's great to have found a balance that works, but I’m aware that as a freelancer, it’s not always easy to guarantee a regular workflow at the same level and, beyond my current project, I’ll be back to trying to take on enough work without overloading myself physically. And of course, part-time hours also means a part-time income. I probably earn around 60% of what I could if I was able to work full time, which brings me down to well below the average income in the UK – although not low enough to be eligible for any kind of support.

Inclusion and access

Getting back to the webinar, one of the key topics of discussion was inclusion of those with disabilities and chronic illnesses within the publishing industry in general and more specifically what can be done to improve accessibility for writers. One speaker talked about the use of accessibility riders – a document that sets out someone’s accessibility needs at the start of a contract. It’s a really interesting idea and one that’s backed up legally in the UK by the 2010 Equality Act. Of course, it’s relatively easy to imagine the kind of adaptations an employer might make for an employee who, for example, was a wheelchair user and needed ramps or an adapted desk setup. What’s less straightforward is the kind of adjustments needed for people with invisible disabilities and chronic conditions. And of course, once you get into the freelance realm, the responsibilities of those you work for become much more of a grey area.

In my own case, the practical adaptations needed are not obvious. For several years when I was first diagnosed, I tried using voice recognition software to avoid too much keyboard use. It was something that publishers didn’t have a problem with and even supported; in part because I had my own software, so it didn’t require any input from them! I remember one publisher even inviting me into the office to give a demo and taking a real interest in how it worked. However, I gradually realized that keyboard use isn’t actually an issue for me, it’s navigating and formatting with a mouse that causes me pain. You can navigate using voice software but it’s really tricky and frustrating, so I eventually gave up. I’ve tried a whole variety of different devices and settled on a combination of a graphics tablet which I use with my left hand and a regular mouse which is just better for certain tasks and which I use (sparingly) with my right. That means that I try to avoid tasks with lots of fiddly formatting, including lots of work on digital materials which tend to have annoyingly mouse-heavy templates or authoring software.  

Back in the days of working in a headset with increasingly frustrated cries of "scratch that" and "undo that" coming from my office!

Perhaps more significant for me though is the amount of work I can manage. As I said above, 15-20 hours a week seems to be sustainable and those hours need to be evenly spaced, not bunched up into short intensive bursts. Does that mean that I just have to put up with a lower income? Would it be reasonable to ask to be paid for hours I’m not able to work in the name of equity? Perhaps where there should be more flexibility is with workload. Ruling someone out of a project because they’re not able to work a lot of hours in a short period is surely discrimination.  It’s sometimes possible to negotiate taking on a smaller chunk of a writing project, but not always. And of course, taking on a smaller chunk of work means accepting a smaller fee and the inevitable gaps between lots of short projects which is harder to manage, means more admin and is financially loss-making. Spreading a piece of work over a longer timescale would be a better solution all round but would require changes in scheduling and longer deadlines. That should be perfectly possible in publishing, but often doesn’t happen because of poor planning and squeezed schedules. It’s a source of frustration for most freelancers, for me it’s either a source of pain, or more likely, rules me out of work.

Awareness

Should I be more transparent about my condition? Should I have an accessibility rider setting out what I can manage and what adjustments I might need? I certainly don’t keep my health a secret and many editors who I’ve worked with over the years know about my situation; although they don’t always fully understand the implications. I know of well-meaning editors who haven’t offered me work on projects because they thought it would be hard on me physically, when actually it would’ve been fine. Especially with the ups and downs of a chronic condition, they may have dealt with me at a time when I was really struggling and had to cut back or pull out of something and assume that the same applies going forward. That’s especially problematic given the big improvements I’ve seen in recent years. And of course, I don't know how many editors have just chosen not to offer me future work because they thought my health limitations would just be too much trouble ...

And I don’t always mention my health and its limitations.  In part, that’s a conscious decision. The changes I’ve made to control my condition recently have largely been about mindset and a mind-body approach to pain control. In short, I’ve shifted my mental focus away from the pain and stopped letting it define my life. So, I don’t want to have to keep making an issue of it in a work context. If I don’t anticipate something being problematic, there seems no need. So sometimes “availability” just ends up doing a lot of heavy lifting. When I say that I don’t have enough availability to take on a job, I’m sure people assume I have a packed schedule, when in reality, they’re often just asking for more hours than I can comfortably commit to, even with a completely empty schedule.

The ADCI webinar brought up many other issues, some relevant to my own situation, some less so. There’s the issue of variability for those with chronic conditions, managing work through good days and bad days, good patches and bad patches, good energy levels and dips - and how that affects schedules and deadlines. There’s the concept known within the community as ‘spoons’, something I could really relate to when my condition was at its worst, which you can read about here if you’re interested. And then there’s representation of people with disabilities and chronic conditions in what we write, including in ELT materials. But that’s a topic for another day, I think.

RSI Day 2021: pain in a pandemic

Yesterday, 28 February, was RSI Awareness Day. This year, even for those of us used to working from home, our work routines have been thrown up in the air and healthy working habits have gone a bit awry.  It's also been a fairly reflective sort of year, so I thought it might be time to talk about some of my pain-related ups and downs. To explain the past year though, I’m going to have to take you back a bit …apologies to those who’ve heard some bits of this story before.

1989:
I broke my right collarbone in a car accident. I was told it'd healed and was sent off to live fairly unbothered by it for the next 10 years or so.

1999:
After spending my 20s teaching abroad, I’d just switched to a desk-based job as a lexicographer when I suddenly started getting severe pains in my right hand, arm, shoulder and neck. I was initially diagnosed with RSI and after lots of appointments, discovered that my collarbone had never fixed properly but was wobbling around causing a generally unstable wonky top right corner and putting all kinds of stresses and strains on the nerves, tendons and muscles around it.

2000 onwards:
Having had lots of doctors more-or-less shrug their shoulders, I spent the following 20 years doing my best to live with increasingly debilitating chronic pain that affected my whole upper body. It limited my professional life significantly. Having gone freelance early-on to give me the flexibility to work how and when I could, I worked part-time hours, was careful not to take on too much and avoided jobs that would be too fiddly and computer-heavy. I tried various workstation set-ups, took lots of regular breaks, tried various forms of exercise and therapy.

Late twenty-teens:
By about 2018 though, things seemed to have hit a real low-point. The pain was getting worse and dominating my life more and more. I was taking bigger chunks of time off work between projects to recover and my personal life was getting narrower as I avoided more and more everyday situations that would cause me pain.

June 2019:
A chance comment on a Facebook thread about mindfulness apps led to a suggestion from Rachael Roberts that I take a look at Curable, an app aimed specifically at chronic pain sufferers. The results were pretty dramatic. It feels a bit silly to say that an app managed to ‘cure’ 20 years of pain in just a couple of weeks, but I think it was just the right thing at the right time and brought together a lot of ideas I’d been aware of for a while but hadn’t known how to act on. I won't go into the details, because we’d be here all day, but it basically centred around mindset and my attitude to pain. It didn’t fix my wonky shoulder, but I learnt how to turn the volume down on the pain that had started bouncing round my brain’s wiring out-of-control. I went from taking strong painkillers pretty much daily to maybe 3 or 4 times in 18 months.

Coronatimes: 
Despite everything goin on in the world, 2020 on the whole was actually okay in terms of both my physical and mental health. After a fairly busy few months in the spring, work dropped off a cliff through the summer and I had 4 months with pretty much no work at all. Of course, it was all a bit worrying, but thankfully, I got government grants that kept me going financially and the weather was fabulous! My partner was out of work and being cooped up at home together wasn’t great, but with the good weather, we could use the garden as an extra room, there was lots of walking and gardening and we rubbed along fine.

Come the autumn, my work picked up again and I’ve been more-or-less flat-out since October – which is great, but maybe not so healthy. As the weather got worse, the days got shorter and my partner got more bored and despondent, I found myself spending longer stretches at my desk, avoiding leaving my office for my usual regular breaks because I didn’t want to be disturbed. By mid-December, I was getting tweaks in my shoulder. I partly put it down to the cold damp weather, but I knew that too much desk-time and increasing tension (mental tension leading to physical tension) were to blame too. By the end of the year, I was exhausted and at the end of my tether with no reserves of energy to draw on to do the clever, pain-subduing mind trick.

2021:
So far this year has been a tough slog; ploughing on with work, going out for fewer walks because I’m really feeling the cold in my joints, and feeling generally resentful and low. Thankfully, I know that I’ve always struggled with winter and I also know that I usually start perking up in March, so I’m hopeful that the advent of spring, along with the gradual easing of lockdown here in the UK will signal an upturn. I’m also just coming to the end of one work project and it looks like the next project I have pencilled in might be a bit delayed. So, I’m planning a much-needed week off. Of course, I won’t be able to go anywhere or do very much, but a bit more walking, perhaps a bit of pottering in the garden. If I can relax and recharge just a bit, then I think I can get my priorities back in perspective - even in these weirdly out-of-perspective times - and get my health back on track.

Manic May

Phew! I've just come out of what felt like a very busy, head-down patch of work. Since I got back from a break mid-April, it's been full-on through to a couple of deadlines at the end of last week … and it's really taken its toll.

As many of you will know, I suffer from a chronic pain condition that tends to flare up when I put in too many hours at my desk. I try really hard to keep a steady, manageable flow of work, but that's always a challenge. In this instance, a number of factors conspired against me:

• The two main projects I was working on expanded significantly from their original briefs, involving a lot more hours' work to complete, but without the deadlines really moving.
• A few unexpected queries came in from projects I thought I'd finished. Although they weren't big things, they did take time emailing to and fro, going back to look through documents, tracking down information and generally getting my head back into a different project.
• Several things also came up about potential future work, all of which is good, but again, is a distraction and requires shifting yourself into a different headspace to consider whether each one is of interest, whether it will fit into your schedule, then flurries of emails, phone conversations and in one case, travelling to a face-to-face meeting.

All of which made for a sense of there being not enough hours in a day and days in a week … and inevitably led to a pain flare-up. That then had its own knock-on effect as I struggled to work through more pain, which made me slower and less productive, so everything took even longer. On bad pain days, there are only so many hours I can manage at my desk, so I tended to work shorter days and with work piling up, that meant I ended up working through five weekends in a row just to keep up. And while fewer hours per day spread across 7 days instead of 5 meant I ultimately managed to keep all those plates spinning and hit my deadlines, the lack of any respite took its toll too.

Thankfully, this week has been much calmer. There's no rest for the wicked though with two new projects starting straight away, albeit at a less hectic pace – so far! – plus decisions to make about what I take on over the next few months. I'm feeling utterly drained and my inclination right now is to say no to everything and just rest, but I need the work and some of it does look interesting.

All of which got me reflecting on my working hours again and took me back to a blog post I wrote  last summer about My Working Life in Stats. As it's almost a year on, I thought I'd do a quick update with this year's stats.

2018-2019 in Stats

It's been a very tricky year for work. Just after I wrote my post last year, I took a couple of months off work almost completely to try and get my health back on track (see Not Working). It did help, in the short term at least. Then, when I got back to working in the late summer, I had a frustrating patch of jobs being delayed and cancelled. This had an especially big impact because I was being cautious about not overdoing it, so I'd only planned in one project at a time and when that dropped off, it left me with nothing to fill in.

As you can see from the graph, things picked up towards the end of the year (the numbers along the bottom are week numbers, so 41 is into October, 01 start of Jan), but work was very bitty with lots of short jobs which led to sudden peaks in busy weeks. January to April was quiet-ish, again with several shorter jobs, then the recent flurry through late April and May.

Financially, the year 2018-19 (that's the tax year April to April) was dreadful with my overall income dropping to about £21K which was just £17K after expenses. In part, that's down to the couple of months I didn't work at all for health reasons, in part it's down to the working time lost through delayed and cancelled projects, and also the bitty nature of short projects (which I wrote about here). I also worked through the autumn and winter on a royalties-only writing project which accounted for around 27% of my hours for the whole year. That paid nothing in the short term (although I have included the hours in my working hours graph), so that's effectively more than a quarter of my year working 'unpaid', but it will, hopefully, pay back in future years (fingers crossed!).

Looking ahead

I'm hoping the year ahead will be an improvement. From a financial perspective, my recent flurry of work through April/May wasn't counted in the income figures above and with solid work through June and into July, I should already be on track for a better start to the new financial year. And with a few potentially interesting projects in discussion, it's looking like the issue over the coming months won't be lack of work but trying to fit it into my schedule in a way that's manageable. In the short term though, I've just booked a week off before things get too busy again to wind down somewhere warm, do very little and hopefully ease off some of those pains!