My child’s needs trump my own. They come first and they depend on us. For 95% of the time, it’s all about them. What we choose to do with the other 5% is critical. That’s the time meant for us to fill our cups so that we can have something to give to our families. So, what will we do with that time: clean or create? This varies and that’s the balancing part.
A tiny infant is passed to the arms of his trembling mother. Crying, he clings to her and she holds him. She needs to eat, but she holds him. She needs to clean her body, but she holds him. She holds him, and together, they weather the raging inferno of the early years. The push and pull…
The modern world of writing is full of temptations to take you away from your work. Buy this, subscribe to this, promote this now. The whirlwind of online possibilities can pull you in and drag you under before you remember why you logged on to begin with.
Stories were my escape. They were my comfort blanket, my best friend. Words on a page were more precious to me than toys or my favorite dresses. I collected notebooks like they were priceless jewels—filling them to capacity and begging for more.
It’s really easy to believe that your words don’t matter. That you’re too busy and there just isn’t time. That it’s just too hard right now. And maybe it is. Or maybe we just need to know that we aren’t alone and that there are hands on our backs.
You wrote today. Even if it doesn’t feel like it. You wrote and you rewrote on the pages of your mind. Your story is marinating there becoming a little richer and flavourful with every minute you can spare a thought for it. Let it marinate a little longer, dear friend.
I have three children who I have birthed from my body, but my novel…oh my novel, I have birthed from my mind and soul. Born from me as surely as any child of my flesh, it began, small at first, barely a flitting thought journeying across the surface of my mind.
I can’t count the number of times I have seen new writers ask for advice on where to start, and get even more confused when someone says, “Write what you know.” That combination of words means everything—and nothing.
When the world goes back to normal, mothers who write will still be fighting little hands batting at our screens. We may never have the romantic writing careers we dreamed of as little girls. But we are lucky—we have so much more.