I wrote an entire post before about how I don’t necessarily have a genre. It’s not something I was complaining about. It was more something I happened to notice in my few months since publishing. Also in past posts I’ve teased about telling you all about myself. I wanted to focus this post on how the hardest part about writing/editing/publishing/promoting my work is finding the time to do those things. But in order to explain that I actually (FINALLY) can tell you a bit more about myself.
Or am I telling you more about my kids? I gave birth to two children. Daughters. One is fourteen, the other is ten.
They are both dancers. Two to three hours a week after school each. And piano players, half an hour each once a week after school. And the older one is really into horses, and does vaulting (which is dancing and posing on a moving horse) on the weekend for two or three hours.
On the topic of the older one, she also has a chronic condition. She was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis at 16 months old. Since then it has been trips to Calgary (an hour-ish south of where we live) to the Alberta Children’s Hospital every one-to-three months for appointments and X-rays and treatments and joint injections and IV hookups and bloodwork and MRIs. I could (and probably have) done that drive in my sleep. Spring, summer, winter and fall.
Or I could tell you about the other 280 kids in my life. I’m an Educational Assistant at a Pre-K to Grade 8 school in my town. And I’m not one to toot my own horn, but if I was as popular in school as I am now, I probably would have been far more successful in my life. In the five years I’ve worked there, I’ve been in both elementary and middle school. I have so many half-assed, semi-useful, mediocre talents: singer, guitar player, word-smith, crochet-er, humorous-tension-reliever… and they all amalgamate to the quirky personality I’ve cultivated within those walls. Which isn’t too different from who I really am. The only difference is Work-Me is a morning person who has her shit together.
And then there’s family things. Weekend dinners after helping my parents do yard-work. The odd play-date or babysitting of nieces and nephews. And the never-ending housework that will only end if a tornado hits this summer (fingers crossed!)
So that leaves weekends and summers and that hour and half after my kids go to bed to do author stuff. At least I have my husband to take on half of the work and parenting load—
Oh wait! I don’t have a husband. (And no, I am not complaining. I don’t want someone touching my dishwasher or sleeping in my bed.) All of this is me killing the single-mom life. Like not even shared custody where every-other-weekend I can catch up on my reading in a bubble-bath… They’re mine all of the time. And also, I hate baths.
So raise a glass to single moms. And to the summer, when I’ll finally have some time again. For what? I don’t know. I’ll see how much laundry is left when I get there.
I hear you on trying to finding the time to write. I read excerpts from authors who get up at 5 am to write. God bless them. I tend to carry around a note book to write when inspiration hits. You don’t need to devote large block of time. Just lots of little moments. Your story(s) will eventually get written. As a female writer, we have so many other priorities (motherhood, work, etc) that tend to get in the way. Your definitely not alone.