No more excuses, baby...it is ON!!

Writers write, right?  That’s what I’ve heard.  Makes sense.  You can’t just say you’re a writer because you have ideas, you have to write them down.  And edit.  And polish.  And re-write.  All of which takes time, focus, and patience.  Things that are in limited supply at my house. 

Oh, I know, I’ve got just as much time as anyone else, it’s true.  But somehow time at home with a toddler is different than time at home alone or with, say, a teenager, which I‘ve come to find is about like being home alone.  Off in their rooms on their laptops, they only come out when hunger drives them to seek out food….but that’s another story altogether. 

I guess the key is uninterrupted time.  That’s a different animal isn’t it?  Time for ideas to percolate and bubble to the surface.  Time for the right words to flow.  And flow just doesn’t happen with interruptions.  Flow can be as elusive as that dream you were having just before you woke up.  You can sense it but you just can’t grab it and pin it down.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had the germ of an idea, the beginnings of a story, but before I could get a word on paper I was sidetracked by a spill, an injury (most always minor but still worthy of an agonized crying jag, sometimes even with tears) , or just garden variety whining from a child who has realized Mommy is thinking about something else.  (I saw a great sticker recently:  “The best way for a parent to get a child’s attention is to sit down and look comfortable”--  Do I hear an “Amen“?)

So I’ve been chewing on this. Am I a writer?  Or just a wannabe?  Well, I DO wannabe so I’m going to have to make the effort to actually discipline myself to use the time I do have to write.  My preschooler still naps for a couple of hours most days so I don’t really have as much of an excuse as I have made out like I have. Time that I have heretofore used for playing on the computer (any other Lexulous fans out there?  Facebook addicts?  Guilty on both counts, here).  Let’s see, other time suckers: talking on the phone, reading, sleeping, and eating.  Okay, I guess I need to do those last two but the others I have pretty much complete control over.    In fact, my little girl is NOT asleep right now, she is sitting on the floor beside me at her own little desk (a breakfast-in-bed tray I bought in what I can only describe as a “hopeful” frame of mind one day), and though I know I will have to go back later and make sure what I have written is at least coherent, if not life changing, it is somewhat encouraging to see just how much I’ve managed to get down even with her handing me crayons, her nearly constant sing-song chatter, and the muted sounds of “Clifford, the Big Red Dog“ in the background.

It’s settled then.  Yeah, I can make the time.  It will take discipline and effort but anything worth doing usually does, doesn’t it?  Now….I’ll have to come up with what to write about. Actually, that shouldn’t be a problem, I’ve got an opinion on most everything.  Finding someone who wants to read what I write?  That remains to be seen, I guess.  I hope to, of course.  Unless it’s a diary, I think most writers hope that what they are writing will be read.  And that the reader will have a reaction to what they read.  Whether it be laughter, tears, or just the realization that they are not alone in their thoughts and feelings.  A feeling of sympatico, if you will.

I am an avid reader and I love to find an author who can make me feel something about the characters I am reading about.  (I confess, I do not read to think.  I am a fiction reader and I read for pure escape.  I’m not ashamed.)  I have thought at times that I would love to write a novel that inspires that kind of reaction in other readers, but alas, I don’t think I have a story in me trying to get out.  Not a novel anyway.  Maybe a kid’s book?  Maybe a very short story.  But I do have this.  My view of things that happen in my small corner of the universe.  My thoughts and opinions.  My “ramblings”, you could say.  And I enjoy putting them down and sorting them out.  It’s kind of like a diary I guess, in that it’s cathartic.  But kind of not, in that I am aware of the need to edit for content and clarity.  And grammar.  I’ll do my best on these fronts, but I’d appreciate leniency from any English teachers out there.  (Mrs. Fleming, I know you did your best, and I loved you, but some things just didn’t stick.)

So, I guess as long as I’m thinking about stuff, I’ll keep writing.  And maybe you’ll enjoy reading what I have to say.  If not, you can tell me, I can take constructive criticism as well as the next guy (I can say this honestly because I don‘t think anyone really likes criticism--ha!), but please, be nice, okay?

This is an original Deep South Moms post.  On occasion, Angie B. can also be found on another great Southern blog, shewearsmanyhats.com