It's official. Yesterday was the first day of school in my little corner of the world. Okay, in my little corner of the prairie. With it comes changes. No longer will I be chasing children up and down the street or climbing on the trunk of my car with a tree limb in my hand to knock down a pair of tied-together tennis shoes, stuck high up in a tree. Yes, sad as it is, the tennis shoe incident may have been the highlight of the summer.
Last week's blog went unwritten. It wasn't the best week of my life. The deadline to write book #9 in the Desperation series continues to move forward each day, even when I don't get to write. The insanity of the approaching first day of school had g-kids acting out, as if it were the last week before life in prison. Pushing the limits, until limits lay shattered on the ground, seemed to be their goal.
Mothers, whether stay-at-home workers--because there's always work at home--and those who go to a job away from home are celebrating.
But with school in session, adjustments must be made. There's more time, but it's interrupted time. Not as interrupted as summer days with nothing for kids to do except find trouble, but interruptions, nonetheless. While last previous academic year included dropping off and picking up g-kids at one school, this year is up to four trips. Taking the Pre-K'er to half-day morning school, picking up Pre-K'er from school, picking up elementary kids from school, and picking up one at the middle school now, along with the neighbor girl across the street. It's a circus, all this juggling and running. I've become the driver of the clown car. ;)
One of our writing group members asked how the published authors among us make time to write. The answer? We give up things others might normally do. We get up early or stay up late. We forego large chunks of television time. We don't have the world's neatest and cleanest homes. Laundry piles up, dishes pile up, but eventually are cleaned and put away. We set goals and we work on achieving them, because as one published author put it, this is our job. This pays the bills, puts food on the table, clothes on our bodies. What? You're not published yet? Okay, start making writing a habit, so that when you do get that first contract offer, the transition won't totally blow your mind and freeze your body, keeping you from doing the job.
Writers write. We either write or become monsters.
I wrote 67 pages during our most recent BIAW that ended this past weekend, in spite of the shattered limits and insanity around me. After that, from Sunday through yesterday, I haven't written. Not a blog post, not a manuscript page. I did not write. Today I blog and will begin the last chapter of Erin and Jake's story. By the end of the upcoming weekend,I hope my goal is to be finished...ahead of schedule. That's the rough draft. Editing, smoothing, changing, are on the horizon.
Life happens. Adjustments in life are necessary. The unexpected comes along and ruins our plans and goals. Yet we continue. There will always be a way to adjust, to conquer. Find it.
Never. Give. Up.
Last week's blog went unwritten. It wasn't the best week of my life. The deadline to write book #9 in the Desperation series continues to move forward each day, even when I don't get to write. The insanity of the approaching first day of school had g-kids acting out, as if it were the last week before life in prison. Pushing the limits, until limits lay shattered on the ground, seemed to be their goal.
Mothers, whether stay-at-home workers--because there's always work at home--and those who go to a job away from home are celebrating.
But with school in session, adjustments must be made. There's more time, but it's interrupted time. Not as interrupted as summer days with nothing for kids to do except find trouble, but interruptions, nonetheless. While last previous academic year included dropping off and picking up g-kids at one school, this year is up to four trips. Taking the Pre-K'er to half-day morning school, picking up Pre-K'er from school, picking up elementary kids from school, and picking up one at the middle school now, along with the neighbor girl across the street. It's a circus, all this juggling and running. I've become the driver of the clown car. ;)
One of our writing group members asked how the published authors among us make time to write. The answer? We give up things others might normally do. We get up early or stay up late. We forego large chunks of television time. We don't have the world's neatest and cleanest homes. Laundry piles up, dishes pile up, but eventually are cleaned and put away. We set goals and we work on achieving them, because as one published author put it, this is our job. This pays the bills, puts food on the table, clothes on our bodies. What? You're not published yet? Okay, start making writing a habit, so that when you do get that first contract offer, the transition won't totally blow your mind and freeze your body, keeping you from doing the job.
Writers write. We either write or become monsters.
I wrote 67 pages during our most recent BIAW that ended this past weekend, in spite of the shattered limits and insanity around me. After that, from Sunday through yesterday, I haven't written. Not a blog post, not a manuscript page. I did not write. Today I blog and will begin the last chapter of Erin and Jake's story. By the end of the upcoming weekend,
Life happens. Adjustments in life are necessary. The unexpected comes along and ruins our plans and goals. Yet we continue. There will always be a way to adjust, to conquer. Find it.
Never. Give. Up.
Never give up, for that is just the place and time that the tide will turn. - Harriet Beecher Stowe
No comments:
Post a Comment