Today is Saturday about 11:30am. My husband is home, I should have some free opportunities to write, in theory that is. But, as I begin this short blog project, which I have explained to the knight in shining armor I married, that I just need ten minutes, I am interrupted first by my two year old's unexplained crying. Then, as I sit down prepared to begin again there is a knock at the door followed by my dearly beloved ushering in my four year old who has fallen in the back yard only to land in the neighbor's dog's um, leavings... Now I must clean him up. And so my life routinely goes.
It isn't very often that I am free to sit for any stretch of time and let my imagination run wild, my fingers hammering the keyboard in an attempt to keep up. But I digress, let me start at the beginning. Four years ago I had my first child, four months after that I quit my teaching job and on December 26th, yep you read it right, my family of three moved from our 1920s cape cod in Kansas to a two bedroom duplex in Marysville, Ohio. It didn't take me long as a stay at home mom to become bored with daytime television and being new town, the dead of winter did not offer many opportunities to meet other moms. So, I quickly burned through our library, reading anything and everything that caught my eye. I've always read, I love to read and imagine. As far back as I can remember my grandmother and I traded books and talked about stories together.
So, at my grandmother's suggestion I set out to write a novel. My son was young enough that I was able to take full advantage of his nap times for my writing and since he napped twice a day I was on quite a roll. Every afternoon as soon as I finished that day's editing and writing I emailed it off to Grandma in Kansas. She replied nightly with "It's wonderful honey, I can't wait for the next bit." Now, you might think this would be sufficient and rewarding. I on the other hand I did not (Love you Grammy), I wanted constructive criticism.
A year later I had almost finished the book but was bored with it. This is not a very good sign. If I didn't want to read it why would anyone else? I saved my first manuscript and tucked it into the back of a drawer. By this point I'd met a few people in town, one of them an author with whom I shared my manuscript. Over the next two years as my writing dwindled to a stop, she never gave up inviting me to writing events, and eventually the group for whom this blog is written. I am happy to say that I've picked that novel back up, saved my original and began again with all the tips I picked up, suggestions other writers have given me and am excited about the new face I've given my story.
I have learned a lot during my journey, in my personal, professional and writer's life. I work part time to keep my sanity, I have discovered adult interaction is very stimulating to the senses and prompts brain activity. I have an amazingly supportive husband who quite literally pushes me out the door when he senses my need for personal time. Always have a notebook, you never know when inspiration will strike or you'll need to write down a passing quote or scene. Keep connecting, eventually you will find a niche that fits just perfectly where you can grow some roots.