|Mr. King... and his little dog, too!|
There was only one part of the book that left me feeling.... isolated or disconnected? I'm not sure. But when I stepped back and thought about it, I know that I am probably not isolated in this feeling of disconnect at all. In fact, I am most likely the majority. In On Writing, Mr. King talks about scheduling TIME to write. He sets aside every morning to write. Then his afternoons are for naps and letters, followed by family time in the evening. Doesn't that sound dreamy? In my (our) current world of over scheduling, sleep deprivation and constant distraction, I find TIME to be the main thing that I dream about, drool over and desire (step aside, Mr. Jackman). I recently "got away" from my house, the kids and the seemingly constant chores of my life and spent one night in a friend's cabin in the mountains. I took my laptop with every intention to write. Do you know what I did? I hiked (because I need nature and exercise to recharge my batteries) and then I slept. Then I ate and slept some more because this momma is apparently pooped.
Then my family showed up and all opportunity to write vanished, as did my hopes of showering alone, exercising, having a quiet moment to think or sleeping past 6 am.
I actually have a story in my head that I would LOVE to puke out into a book. What I do NOT seem to have, is the time to sit and write it.
I know what you are thinking, Yet you sit and write this crap, Johi. So THERE is your time. True. I have been finding the time to write on this blog about one day a week. I spend maybe an hour plunking out extremely unedited versions of the shit that floats around in my head. One hour a week. One... hour... a... week.
At this pace, I would be 876 years old by the time I finish my book.
So here is what I propose to the universe: you show me the time, give me the funds (hello housekeeper and part-time nanny?), and I will write down more of the glorious shit that is floating around in my head so that the world can be graced with something that I will refer to as My Book. Until then, I would actually love to have a conversation with Tabitha King, Stephen's wife, as to how her writing career went while she was raising the kids, doing the laundry and scraping the oatmeal off the floor from underneath the dining table.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have dog shit to remove, clothes to fold, dishes to wash, more laundry to rewash because as soon as I hung it to dry the smoke from the High Park Fire shifted and engulfed our house, floors to sweep, furniture to dust, groceries to purchase, meals to prepare, gardens to water and toilets to clean. I guess I should go to FlyLady.net (see K? I read your Christmas letter)and spend two hours reading about how to get it all done with a smile on my face, great shoes on my feet and love in my heart.
Seriously, I probably will, because so far the highlight of my day has been blowing kisses to Thing 2 and watching Thing 1 sound out words in a book, which are pretty good highlights, but I still want some part of my day to be about me. ME ME ME! Because if I get this time FOR me, YOU will get something (pretty awesome, I'm certain) FROM me.
Wish me luck and may the Time Fairies bring a little something extra, just for each of us, but mostly for me because I'm kind of a fucker like that.
My chores are calling and I still haven't showered.
Peace and Love,