Monday, December 14, 2009

Other Places

I posted at two different blogs. I'm discusssing the blend of magic and history over at Ainsley Park the "Traitor to the Crown" series by C. C. Finlay. I also started a new blog which is more of a "mommy" blog. I like to share things about my kids, but I don't like sharing about them on this blog because, well, its mine and its about me and my writing. So I started Confessions of a Deranged Soccer Mom to discuss my kids and life as a parent.

Wednesday, December 09, 2009

Oh, How I Miss It!

My WIP languishes on my hard drive, ignored in favor of the business of the holidays. I yearn to lose myself in the world I created, to once again involve myself into the lives of the characters I've created. It seems odd in some ways because the book I'm working on is not full of cheer. I'm not writing a passionate love story or a screwball comedy. The world I created in my book is dark and full of challenges, where the characters are constantly put through trials which should sink any mortal. I miss it.

It really doesn't matter what the subject material is, only that I've created it. No one makes a move unless I say so. I am in command. This time of year, I am carried away by the tide of reality, hanging on as best I can. The holidays are a frenzied time of year and it isn't necessarily a bad situation. It does remind me of what is really important. As much as I am a writer, my role as mother takes precedence. I enjoy it, but it keeps me in a constant spin. Even if I had the block of time to write, my head is buzzing with so many other things, I'm not going to get much done.

Being a writer isn't a static condition. We constantly evolve, learning more about ourselves and our writing behaviors as we go along. I think we often fear we possess only a finite well of creativity which will fade away if we don't nurture it. Last year I think I would be gnashing my teeth, terrified the desire, will and ability to write would disappear because I chose to bake cookies instead of doing a set number of pages. As I discovered, it doesn't. This year, I realize there are so many other joys to experience which I believe will help my writing in the end. I'm enjoying the thrill of watching my daughter play soccer and basketball. I'm enjoying the fun of dragging my son out at 4 a.m. to go Christmas shopping. I'm enjoying the delight of helping my other daughter bake gingerbread cookies. Not all of it is fun, I will say. The obligations I have with regards to my kids activities can be aggravating, but they are important, just as important as my writing is at this point. I'm under enough tension as it is, adding the guilt of not writing is one I don't need to indulge in. My book will be there after the holidays and I won't be under nearly so much stress. I will enjoy the moment when I can sit down and truly write again. It gives me something to look forwards to.