(Above: 9 weeks on the left…33 weeks on the right)
So I’ve accepted the reality that I won’t be revising my novel to the extent I’d like. That my novel-writing will eventually return in earnest (hopefully sometime next Summer/Fall), and that my novel will benefit from this break. I believe this, because every break I take from my novel benefits the novel, and because this particular break is a rich and life-enhancing break in which I am still creating something–a person, really.
Which takes me to the topic of “breaks”–not brokenness mind you and not vacations either, but breaks. Ones that result in greater strength and conviction.
A break in my tailbone. A bone that heals stronger.
A break from a relationship. A relationship that reunites later with more conviction and clarity.
A break in my psyche. A renewed set of life priorities.
A break in my my brain. Singular determination, revealed.
I’m looking forward to what the next year will bring me. I’m hoping I’ll be surrounded by support, because it won’t be an easy year, but I hope it will be fantastic nonetheless. I’m excited about meeting my kid. And I’m interested in the writer I will become.
3 responses to “Giving in to the process”
I AM SO EXCITED FOR YOU. Sorry, had to write that in all caps.
So, here is my silly prediction about some of the frustration you’ve been experiencing and what the dynamic of a tiny Zilkling running wild in the house will bring.
I find quite often that when I have two much time to write, I get even less writing done. When I have small windows of say, two or three hours to write, something kicks in that makes me use the hell out of those hours. When you have precious few minutes to write it tends to sharpen your focus and makes you change your routine, often times for the better.
Now, I’m not saying this will happen, and I’m not saying that this is a direct solution to some of your frustrations in the past, but it will be interesting to see how the newcomer will force you to change the way you approach this novel.
I am looking forward to watching this adventure from the sidelines.
Two hours is enough, mostly. I was having a “magic writing day” during Lil’ Nate’s nap yesterday, and I will admit I was trying to get everything I could down like an addict:
LN: Helloooooo. Daaaddyyyy.
Me: Just two more minutes…
LN: But it’s snaaaaack tiiiiiime.
Me: Hold on…
LN: I’m AWAAAAKE now.
Me: Daddy just needs to work on his story a little bit more. Can you read a book by yourself for just one second?
I try to tell myself that it’s important for her to see her father working hard, but I secretly fear that this is pharmaceutical-grade therapy material.
Oh, don’t forget the husband to husband + father and wife to wife + mother. Your marriage will adjust. Your attitudes toward work and life will probably change. As we’ve discussed before: profound priority shift. Oh, and you’ll have a lot more stuff. Stuff everywhere. God almighty, the stuff!
I would also like to thank you for the “before and after” pictures. They have allowed me some insight into a question that has been gnawing at me for a long time: “What is the best way to configure our fireplace screen?”
We’ve opted for the trapezoidal, but I can see that you guys are zig-zaggers. The ZZZ (Zilka ZigZag) seems far more stable, but I prefer the additional fire clearance. What to do? Ah, first-world problems.