It's Sunday night, the kids are in bed, and I am trying to work on my WIP. "Trying" is the operative word here. I must confess, I'm failing at "trying".
I must confess that at this point, at this moment, right now while I'm writing this post, I'm absolutely convinced that I fail at this writer thing. My head is in a sad place. My heart is in an even sadder place.
Tomorrow might bring in a new perspective, a new zest for words and writing and ideas, but for now, I'm wallowing in useless self-pity.
The voices in my head are having a conversation:
(While working on WIP) What is this? You blockhead! If you say this, then your main character is basically a floopity-floop [not a real word, I know] because why would she want to go with this guy if she suspects him of doing this [some bad thing I can't reveal]?
*highlights*
*furiously scribble notes in the margin*
*slash and burn*
(A few pages later) What? What? And you call yourself a writer? Shame on you, woman!
*highlights*
*furiously scribble notes in the margin*
*slash and burn*
What do you mean you have no idea what's going to happen now?
Me: *shrugs*
What do you mean you're changing the last chapters?
Me: *cries*
Sigh.
When I snagged my agent, I was pregnant with baby #3. My older kids were old enough not to need me at every second, every minute of their day, so I had TIME to write, write, write and edit whenever I wanted to. I was feeling good. I was confident.
Then, baby #3 came. Sleepless nights, hormonal crying jags, zombie brain. Suddenly, there was too much work to do, and having three kids is NOT the same as having two kids. Baby #3 got sick a lot in his first year. The older kids had school and extracurricular activities (still do). Last year, I only managed to read ten books. TEN BOOKS IN ONE YEAR is PATHETIC! And the writing, well, it suffered. By the time the kids were tucked in bed, including baby boy who is a horrible sleeper by the way, my brain was so fried I'd stare at my computer until I'd fall asleep on my keyboard.
It's getting easier now. Baby boy is turning 2 this year. When he's awake, writing is impossible because this boy is always risking his life at every turn. Swinging from oven door handles, diving off tables, somersaulting on the stair landing, and the classic: jumping on the bed. He naps for two hours when I'm lucky, 10 minutes when I'm not. He's the sweetest, most adorable little monkey ever, but please go to sleep honey, because Mommy needs to write.
But such is life.
I really only have myself to blame, you know. The words won't get on the paper if I don't make it happen. So here I am, trying--and always trying--because ONE DAY I will GET IT RIGHT.
9 comments:
It will get better! I think every writer, with children, without children, goes through phases of inspiration and floopity flop :)
Love you lady!
Oh oh! Also, if you need another set of eyes to look at your WiP, I am much better at helping people with their plot holes than I am at fixing my own :)
Sweetie! You are being way way too mean to yourself. We KNOW you would never say this to another writer so you need to stop saying it to yourself, immediately, or I will come to your house and whack you with an iced haddock. Negative self-talk is so bad...I know, I do it too. It doesn't lead to one positive thing and it steals your happiness. Commit to write PURE CRAP for right now and I will bet, just bet, that's it's going to turn out better than you think. But don't try to make it better! Pure crap, mind you.
Mare: You're such a sweetie! I'll definitely take you up on that beta offer, after I get this WIP whipped into shape! *winks*
Phreshy: Sigh. I know, I know. Love you! HUGS!
I'm with Pony! You wouldn't ever say that to another writer, so don't do it to yourself. If it gets to that point (where you're so frustrated you want to cry), go do something fun. Like read an 11th book! Being creative isn't like being smart or stupid--it isn't born into us. The talent, the gift of storytelling, is always there, but creativity is like your kiddo: it needs to be nurtured. You have beautiful stories to tell, but they won't all come at once. You are a busy, hardworking mother; take pride in that even when your muse isn't so dedicated ;)
It will get better Precy, give it some time. I have added very few words to my new WIP in the last few days.
This writing thing ain't no joke! It takes blood, sweat and tears. And sometimes a lot of baby urine in our case. Gosh that's gross, but its the glamorous life of a mom writer.
Thank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.
I understand completely. I only just now have begun writing again in earnest, and my son just turned 1. It gets easier, but I was so intensely frustrated last year b/c I got so little done. *hugs*
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