|Crazy Hair Day|
I have been busy for months and have not a written. What am I waiting for? An invitation? “Hey lady, I liked your first story, write another!” Or maybe my manuscript will be a one hit wonder- my one true novel- and I will never finish anything else. I think that’s bologna. You want to know the truth?
I’m scared that this is all I’ve got, that I don’t have any other ideas. I thought about writing something about the WW II era, but guess what, everyone’s been there, done a million times over, so what would be special about mine? “Nothing,” I tell myself, so I don’t write. “Let me go and wash some dishes.”
Hey, what about teens who are falling apart and contemplating suicide? I think. Nah, Jay Asher knocked that one out of the park, so how could I do it better? “Well, let me go and grade 170 school papers instead.”
“In December, promise. Three posts by the 26th.” Well, my house company didn’t leave all month, the kids had their birthday party, and Hanukah ruled for eight days, and then I got terrible news on the 26th. See, I can’t catch a break it seems. So, no writing.
Happy New Year! Here we are. Finally, this morning, I find at bottom of my desk a piece of paper with five ideas for blog posts. I had written them in November and promised my group I would complete them in December. I really want to sit down and write, but I couldn’t because the kids had to go to the dentist. Yep, I should have taken the kids in October, but remember, my life was crazy, so thank goodness, they had no cavities.
But today is the day. Carpe Diem. I get home, unloaded groceries, feed kids, plop them in front of a movie like everybody else does, and tell them not to talk to me, even if the movie is over. Dinner and bedtime are early today. Group is coming over and I aim to have me a post.
Fear. It kills you cold. I didn’t start another project because I wanted an editor, The Editor, to tell me, “Your novel rocks, it’s amazing, let’s get to work.” If I have time to watch TV, I have time to write. If I have time to go on Facebook, I have time to write. Well, in my defense, I haven’t posted on Facebook since August 2011.
“Mommy, the movie is over,” my daughter says.
“GO play, I’m busy.” I keep typing, ignoring my monkey.
“It’s dark outside,” says my son.
|Fielding the Ball|
And for those of you that know me… I’m not silent, by any measure, but no one has heard from me, not even a peep on my group’s blog. That’s pretty lousy. But seriously, I would read Going Bovine or Flygirl and then think, “Forget it; I have nothing to add that’s better.”
I think a change is in order.
“Mommy, the garage door is open.”
“Not my problem.”
“DO we feed Buddy?”
“YES. You do every day twice a day. I don’t need to be involved in that process. This is MY quiet time. Go entertain yourselves.” I shut the door of my den and sit at the computer. Movies need to be three hours long for the twelve and under crowd.
I dust off some old picture books that have collected cobwebs in my drawer. I decide I’m going to post often, at least once or twice a month, on our blog. I’m not waiting by the phone for The Big Call. I never used to when I was an actor, so why am I waiting now?
My advice to myself: Don’t let fear or preconceptions make me feel like I don’t have a new twist on an old tale. I am not the editor (nor agent), someone else is. My job is to write, write it all down, and whatever comes out is good. Who am I to assume it won’t be good? Well, alright, it will be good, once I revise.
Like our Blog T-Shirts say: “Stay the F**k and Write!”