Monthly Archives: September 2010

The Tightrope Act

Well, I did it. I just put in my application to re-join RWA. This is just one of many steps involved in coming back to life as a writer. Real life has kicked me in the butt for a very long time now, and I’ve been distracted. As evidenced by the lack of activity on this blog. But writing has to become a priority for me again. It’s what makes me happy, whether I’m under contract or not, so I need to carve out a space for it in my life.

But it’s a delicate balance, that writing career paired with the job, the kids, and the marriage. And the house work. Oh, volunteer work. Oh crap, what’s wrong with me?

A prime example of why I haven’t written a new book in a couple years came this last weekend when I had planned to go to the South Dakota Festival of Books. I had my reservations, got my registration in early, and even planned dinner with a  friend.  However, Friday came and the youngest was having some issues about attending his first Boy Scout Camporee without me. He’s been camping before with these same folks, but going without Mom – well, he was trying to be brave, but the tears were flowing anyway. So since I was pretty much pushing him into going (he hates camping – can’t blame him), I decided that my mom duty was more important and reservations were canceled.  The mommy-guilt would have killed me if I totally threw him into the deep end without me.

So I now have a huge mark in the “Good Mommy” column that I can later transfer to the “Selfish Bitch” column to cash in for guilt-free writing time. And I plan to do that this week, settling down at my favorite coffee shop and writing a synopsis for Guys and Dogs.

Except I forgot I promised to be at a friend’s Home Interiors party tonight.

I know a lovely lady who is just about beside herself juggling a three-book contract, a full-time crazy job, family and home.  She’s very together most of the time, but this is pushing her to the edge. Hell, I can relate, and I’m not even under contract. But if I want to be, I’d better get on it.

So is this the writer’s lot in life? Full-time insanity walking the tightrope? Did I say this made me happy? Oh yeah, it does. So I guess I go nuts for awhile. Or the rest of my life. Whatever.

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