I have to laugh. Way back when I was working outside the house and taking care of my young children after work, I used to grab bits and pieces of time to write. Generally that meant after their bedtime when I was tired but determined, and in a few minutes on weekends here and there around whatever else was going on. I would dream of the time I could stay home and write for more than snatched moments around everyone else.
I got that. Well, more or less. Hubby’s job changed and so did mine: I got to stay home and do everything but work outside the house. Well okay, but the kids did have school all day so that was some glorious writing time. Well, other than when the house flooded and I had to manage the fixing of it. And other than calls from the school to pick up a sick kid. Or taking care of the utility sink when the washer overflowed it. You know, all that fun house and kid stuff.
And then the kids got older and more on their own and I got my writing days. Really. Man, did I get on a flow! A one book a year flow, and these were not skinny books. Then a two book a year flow until I caught up to having 12 books out over 12 years even though the first books were four years apart or two years apart. But I was on a roll.
And I saw so many younger author acquaintances just wishing for the day they could have full days to write and I remembered full well that feeling. But there is the other side of that: when you don’t have to fight for writing time, there’s an intensity you lose. I’d started wondering if I was losing too much writing intensity because I had so much time to just write. You know the phrase “be careful what you ask for,” right?
So yes, the kids got older and more on their own enough to need wedding planning and then to be graced with beautiful, wonderful, incredible little handfuls (ahem, grandchildren) who I love to spend time with as much as I can. One is out of state but we “chat” over the phone or through the net and he visits as much as his parents allow (can manage). The other gets lots of Grandma time since she stays with me while Mom and Dad are both at work.
That all day writing time… Well, you know. I’ve lost speed. And once I get over the exhaustion of doing this at “my” age instead of the young mommy age, I’m sure that intensity to find writing time will return.
For now, I’m intensely enjoying these magical little gifts that are the result of putting up with their parents (ahem, enjoying their boisterous head-strong parents at each stage of their in-a-hurry-to-be-able-to-do-what-I-want childhoods) and that may be enough intensity for now.
I’m still writing. Just slower. That’s okay. Too soon, the babies will have their own things to do and I’ll have more story fodder that’s simmering in my mind as I try to stay awake long enough at night to think about my stories.
Saturday, April 11, 2015
Oh, so this is what it was like…
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1 comment:
So true, so true. I wished I could have been the stay home writer. That was my dream. Then, I thought, since I still need to pay the bills, afternoon turn at the local nursing home would free up writing time. To some extent it did, until I got tired too often. Month of September, entering into a new job, but one that is in my nursing blood. Not much writing this month as I adjust, but watch out October. Latest book being published, in my stride and feeling better as I work a daylight schedule without that forbearing of working on my feet until eleven.
So here is to gearing up for November- National Novel Writing Month. We can do it!
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