Do you write, report, interview, and query from your home office?

As a writer for a press office for a federal law enforcement agency in D.C., I was used to writing about mayhem: arsons, firearms, explosives, and murder. I couldn’t wait for the day that I wrote from my home—no more ninety-minute commutes into the city. No more battling I-95 after ten years of jammed highways.

So when I left the job and started a life of freelance writing from suburbia, I thought I’d never see mayhem again. Ha!

I didn’t realize that writing from my haven had its own inherent dangers. One afternoon, I left a phone message for a federal official for an article. I said I would be in my office until 4:00 p.m. (That’s when my kids got off the bus, and all hell broke loose.)

You know the rest of the story. She called back at 4:15...just as my twelve-year-old was bringing in six—count them, six—tween boys forming a basketball team. They traipsed in, in that middle school way, scavenging for snacks and drinks, teasing each other, and in an anything-but-quiet way. My office sat right next to the front door; and I was waving, mouthing “SHUSH,” until I heard the shriek, “MOOOOOOOOOOOOM!” complete with a door SLAM. This was followed by my six- and ten-year-olds throwing their backpacks down and asking if I could sign their latest forms. And did I know that they had a substitute today, and could I help with math?

The official heard the ruckus, and I profusely apologized and drained the humiliation off my voice. I prayed for my kids to be quiet because I couldn’t exactly yell at them. (I could just hear the official dialing her other phone. “Hello, Child Services? There seems to be children trapped in a house...” )

I finished the interview quickly, though I needed more time with the executive. I ushered them outside and posted to Facebook my plea for other working parents to give me advice. How do they handle the work-at-home distractions?

Turns out, I’m not alone. Within ten minutes, my e-mail notification box was full with comments from friends and writers around the country. Some complained of barking dogs during a teleconference, some shared about contracting work on their house during phone calls, and some commiserated about children slamming doors.

Relief.

So, I asked several others for their tips to share with writers working from their home offices, and here’s their advice.

1. Set boundaries. Tell your kids if Mom’s office doors are closed that means you can NOT be interrupted. “When I have an important call, I tell them well beforehand, and then repeatedly remind them that I will be working when they arrive home, to stay quiet and keep the dog quiet too, and only bother me if they are bleeding, barfing, or burning,” says freelance writer Kim Urig, who claims to be a “superhero without the cape.”

2. Take the show on the road. Hit a bookstore with Wifi if you can find a seat. “I work best when I’m out of the house. The library offers good lighting, quiet environment, and Wifi,” says writer Mary Jo Campbell, a creative writing teacher for young adults.

3. Use Caller ID and stick to your office hours. Freelance writer Holly Bowne says she’ll only pick up nonwork calls if her husband or the school phones. She returns all the nonwork related calls after she’s stopped working for the day.

4. The kitchen timer is your friend. Bowne has a writer-friend who suggested using a set amount of time to work on a project, which in turn allows her to be more productive.

5. Start Your Engines. Writer Kim Justice has run to the car to take a call, and so has recruiter Kristen Fife. In the car, there’s no noise or distractions like in our houses. In her blog for job candidates that are having phone screens, Fife advises: “Make sure you use a phone that has clear reception (avoid Skype), and go to a place where you will be undisturbed. No kids, pets, traffic, music, TV, or interruptions.”

6. Get the kids involved. If the kids are home from school that day, have them write with you. This works for Campbell, who’s “giving them writing prompts and then timed writing sessions to get mini-projects started.” If they’re preschoolers, set up a desk in your office with plenty of markers, scissors, a glue stick, and a snack. She adds, “If all else fails, a bowl of popcorn and a good rental will keep the kids busy for a few hours.”

7. Use the Mike Brady lectures. Remind the kids that the earnings from your work pay for their bunk beds and keeps them in clothes, gymnastics, and baseball camp registrations. (Be prepared for this method not to work when dealing with pets and their distractions, however.)

8. Tap your creative genius. What to do about a dog who’s barking incessantly when you’re taking that call? Debby Scott learned the hard way: Her dog once started barking when she was in a teleconference with the head of her organization. She solved her embarrassment, though. “I put a citronella collar on her whenever I’m working because she always wants to chime in when I’m on a conference call. The collar sprays a mist in front of the face if the dog starts yipping.” Urig agrees with Scott about pet problems. “The dog is more a problem than the children,” Urig says.

9. If all else fails, move out. During the daytime, that is. Writer John Ettorre traded his writing and editing consulting services for office space from a custom publisher. “I gave up working from home years ago,” he says, originally trading with a recruiter and producing a quarterly e-mail newsletter in return for office space. Now, he trades with a custom publisher. “I just donate about eight hours of my time a month, helping them brainstorm about developing new biz, helping them think about how to transition some of their print work online, and just generally how to webify what they're doing. In return, I have the resources of a custom publisher for my clients; plus, I get to have an office right next to a designer friend whose been designing dozens of my magazine articles for about fifteen years. I wouldn't have it any other way. It doubles, triples, or maybe quadruples my productivity, to say nothing of not having to worry about the copier, the phones, and the Internet connection.”

Anxious to put the tips to work, I immediately signed up for Caller ID. No more picking up calls from other moms who only need five minutes to arrange a ride to practice; carpools can be arranged during my nonwork hours. Five minute calls often turn into fifteen- or thirty-minute calls very easily. (“How’s Ben doing at school? What’s that teacher like?”) Caller ID also keeps you from uttering the words, “Sure, I’d be happy to help count box tops for the school.” Trust me on this one.

Over the summer, I also made more use of the tip of getting the kids involved: my daughter set up shop next to me with her Barbie laptop and markers. Then, with a $5 investment for her capital, I bought her a full ream of her own paper. I cringed at how much paper she was using (yes, it’s being recycled); but as a budding author, she began creating a constant flow of her own stapled novels. Then I used my active boys for more physical errands: to go to the newsstand and get a copy of the magazine I’ve been writing for, to run to the post office, or to help me stock up at Staples.

And the Mike Brady lectures? I attempt them often. (“You know, son, one day you’ll be on your own and can’t organize a pick-up basketball game when your boss is on the phone.” and “Don’t you want a ride [in the groovy van] to basketball practice? Then you must be quiet first.”) But I’m afraid my Greg, Peter, and Cindy don’t listen well to my words of wisdom. They’re just looking for the chocolate milk from Alice.

I do plan on trying out more of these options...as soon as I answer the doorbell. It seems the neighbor couldn’t reach me by phone.

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