In all fairness, I’m probably going to be writing this post from 9am in the morning till around 1pm (because I have a class at 11:15 and need to leave my house at 10:15 to meet my tutor first), so it might be a little disjointed. On the other hand I might get it AND the cleaning done.
When I was a very small girl, I dreamed of being a writer. And like other small children, I had this fairly romantic notion of sitting down for a couple of hours, bashing out a book, and living happily ever after, though, to be fair, I’d already rather magnanimously decided that when I wrote that bestseller that first time out, that I’d keep writing. I loved it that much, even back then.
Fast forward to when I hit 21.
I’m a new mother, my baby is about three and a half months old, and I’ve just been given a desktop. My partner says that I’m allowed to write as long as I keep the house spotless, because he works at night.
Caring for a baby and cleaning a house left a sum total of around 1 hour to write – or do emails to communicate with other writers.
At 23 I changed things. We’d moved to a bigger house, and I’d taught myself to stay up till 4am and write. The house was slightly messy sometimes, and my ex partner was a pain in the proverbial about what he wanted (‘where’s the best seller then eh?’) but I still wrote.
And I kicked him out at 24.
It’s taken a while for me to find my balance, and sometimes it goes completely, like this week, when I haven’t cleaned the house AT ALL beyond the basics. But I’m a University student (which rox!) and I’m writing (which was always my dream) and I have the support of a wonderful man.
SO – here’s my challenge to you guys. This year, find a way to do what YOU want without destroying what you need. I know, it sounds fairly glib when I put it that way, but there’s always a way to find your way to what you want – because ‘wants’ like writing are just ‘needs’ that the soul can’t express without sounding selfish. Those of us that are writers NEED that. It’s part of our DNA, and without it, we’re very lost, and probably in pieces, in ways most of us don’t like to think about.
I always dreamed I’d be a writer – I thought, by now, I’d have sold a couple of books, but I suppose that just wasn’t to be. Not yet anyway.
The house is calling me now. I’ve got dishes, and character conversations, hovering and planning to do.
Have a great week!