About three months after I had my son, I needed major surgery. Aggressively growing masses on both ovaries, that were causing more pain than even I realized until they were gone. I was down for weeks physically, and longer emotionally with the whole no more kids thing. I wanted to make every second count. (who doesn’t, right?) I couldn’t get into my writing… but I’ve tinkered off and on. And here we are, at 20 months later… I’m finally writing everyday, making headway (though I’m working on the same novel I started in 2013), and I’m learning.
I’m learning that all my OCD hyper structured writing habits have no place in my current reality. I have adapted. I’ve simplified. (More than just my writing life.)
For starters, I had to give up my office, its now a playroom. (Because the whole rest of the house was just not enough.) ;) I now have a mini office that is my desk, two book cases, and a cork panel off the side of our family room. I find that I like this so much better. I can now write while Nate watches his football or political mumbo, and Sam plays on the floor with his blocks and rocking horse. I’m included, even when I’m engaged in my work.
I also like this arrangement because immediately to my left is the kitchen. Load the dishwasher? Write while it runs. Cooking dinner? Write while it boils, bakes, burns. And to my right, the family room, including a cozy fire place, and a giant window to our back garden (where birds, squirrels, and deer live. And it’s currently snowing.)
I ditched all my habits, and just write. I just jot ideas on post it notes and stick them to my board if I’m short on time, and revisit them to explore where they lead at every first opportunity.
I feel good. I've missed writing regularly. I have written a little off and on these last two years, but this feels different. I’m making headway, and I’m managing to find a sloppy balance. I’m good with that. :)
I’ve missed you guys.
Happy writing, my friends.
I hope to talk to you soon.