Writing Schedules and Scavenger Hunts

Just Me 25/365, originally uploaded by Mellahoney.

I've been trying to explain to my kids that I work from home. True, I am not getting paid for the majority of the "work" that I do here at the computer (yet - wishful thinking) - but I have to make this commitment to myself. To treat my writing as though it is a job, a career choice and not a hobby. If there's anything that will separate me from the other would-be-successful-author's, it's my persistence.

I've begun doing some for-profit editing and manuscript critiquing. My rates are ridiculously low, sure, but I'm just getting my feet wet and I don't want to overcharge someone on the off chance that my work is somehow less than they're expecting. Maybe I'll get the hang of it and charge more - or maybe I'll realize while spending my evening hours reading and editing other people's 100K-plus manuscripts, that I should have completed one myself. Something other than a short story collection. (Although, I do so love the medium of short stories - of just capturing enough of a glimpse into another world to satisfy.)

Or maybe I just like the feeling of completing something, and for now short stories are it.

Because the thing is, three year olds don't understand the difference between you working and you ignoring them. So, while he's perfectly capable of playing by himself or with his sister - and does so quite easily whenever I'm NOT on the computer - my son has begun a habit of whining at me and tugging on the mouse to get me away from here.

You can not be selfish and be a good parent. It's just impossible. So I relinquish some of my "me" time while he's napping to do things like draw makeshift scavenger hunt lists or print up activities for him to do at his desk while I'm working on the computer. It all sounded so good in my head - I had great visions of him sitting quietly, or so fervently seeking his plastic dinosaur to check it off of his scavenger list.

So far we've had only moderate success with this. Any activities that involve crayons or glitter or crafty-types of things, requires me to, at the bare minimum, walk over every few minutes and acknowledge the wonderful masterpiece he is creating. And the scavenger hunt is not the independent activity that I had hoped for. Seems my drawing skills are somewhat lacking and he'll wander around the house for ten minutes whining that he can't find the turtle, when in fact, he's supposed to be looking for his plastic dinosaur.

I'm looking forward to the great someday when it's springtime and we have a yard with a fence and he and his sister can play outdoors while I sip coffee and write on my laptop on the deck. Or the even greater someday, when we have a big 'ol house with a farmer's porch and we're in the country somewhere where I can just let them run loose (and we're also independently wealthy and there is world peace...it's really a nice little dream.)

Bolt, Boo-Boo and Me

It's official, Lila is getting ready to leave me.

She's taking steps, not entirely successful beyond that first one yet, but considering that she has only just gone from standing on her own to taking that step in the span of a week, I think it's safe to say that by her first birthday she will be asking for keys to the car and then giving me attitude when I insist on a curfew.

The Boss has been both helpful and difficult as Lila has begun showing an interest in walking. He wants to hold her hands and guide her, as I do, but this often turns into the two of them on the floor and both of them whining. Lila, upset that she has been seemingly mauled by her brother, and The Boss, because he wants the sympathy that I give to Lila.

Boo Boos! He cries umpteen times a day. (And most emphatically after he has popped his sister off the head with a toy or tumbled himself while climbing over her on the carpet...)

But I don't mind his asking for me to kiss for his Boo-Boo's. It's amazing to me how quickly a gently laid pair of Mommy-lips can cure anything that ails him. If only it could always be so simple.

In writing news - I was struck recently with a new idea for a novel. Something that actually kept me excited about the prospect of coming and sitting here to write. I'll be at work tomorrow - and I plan on utilizing the time away from being Healer of All Things Boo-Boo, to hopefully make some headway on the first chapter or two.

I feel the need to tackle this aggressively, as though it were as simple as a short story - just purge it all onto paper and then tidy it up later. The process of finding an agent or publisher seems like such a daunting and lengthy one, that I fear if I don't get something prepared to begin it soon, it might never happen.

And since school loans and mortgages don't care what your potential is as a person - only how timely you can repay your debts, I must begin to think the same way. That potential as a writer is not the same as being a writer.

Oh sure, there is personal success, and I won't take the title of 'writer' away from myself, should I never even achieve monetary success. Because more than money, there is the satisfaction that you have communicated and created and used the giftings given you in this life. And that certainly extends beyond any monetary gain.

That being said though - monetary gain would certainly do this writer no harm, but perhaps even speed the writing process by allowing less time to be spent with finger's plugging the dams and more time with them tapping on keys.

And coffee. If I had more money I could drink better coffee in larger quantities - perhaps on the porch of a farm house, as my kids play in a field and I write the afternoon away on a fancy new laptop.