Last summer, I blogged so much I barely had time for other writing projects.
Blogging can be addictive. The lure of instant feedback was so powerful, the challenge of 100, 000 word projects so overwhelming, that last year I over-blogged and under-wrote.
Yup, let’s all say it together: New-bie!
This year I found Larry Brooks’ Story Engineering. Storytellers, you should read this. It’s accessible, wise, and instantly applicable.
It’s the reason that, this fall, I have the opposite problem.
I’m too busy writing to blog.
I’m too busy writing to even read.
Every sunny day of the last four weeks, I stop the housework at 11 am, grab my sunscreen and sunglasses, and head for our back deck. My girls play next to me as I pull up my folding chair and open a book.
For five minutes or sixty, this is how I celebrate summer: escape.
I admit, I’m hard on my beach reads. They have to be good. Really good. Awkward language, cardboard characters, and anytime I’m told rather than shown loses my attention and sends me running for the next
good better read.
Last Tuesday I pulled my six-year-old girl out of school.
I’ve agonized over the decision for weeks. Many of you know that I intended to wait. I wanted her to finish grade one with her friends. I wanted her to have four more months with the fabulous woman she’s been blessed with for a teacher. I wanted the transition to be gentle.
None of that happened.
Out of respect for Noelle’s privacy, I won’t share details here. But my girl begged me to let her learn at home. And once I’d shared her concerns with a couple of close psychologist friends, I realized it didn’t matter if her request fit my plans. Pulling her now was what we had to do.
The next day BC teachers voted to strike.
My childhood aspirations didn’t include motherhood.
No, that’s not accurate. My plans included motherhood.
But that was just it. I thought I would do all of these really great things, and tuck my children in there somewhere, like something you check off a to-do list.
Is that such a terrible idea? First-time parents – particularly those career-oriented individuals who’ve waited to start a family – might understand what I mean. Actors bring their children to movie sets. Lawyers spend their lunches at playgrounds. Doctors build offices next to their houses and see their children between patients.
Surely I could manage that, right?