Write about something other than the baby and the ridiculous sleep patterns we have. That is all.
My own noisy and fragmented writing life has me idolizing that quaint, hermit-like picture of writers. When I read novels, I imagine the men and women who wrote them. They are of varying age and are clad in thick, wool sweaters. They are always thin, wasting away as they drink mug after mug of tea, … Continue reading Writing weather.
The clock reads two-thirty in the morning. Xander is wide awake. He does somersaults in our bed, spins around so his feet are in my side, then in my neck. He pulls his pacifier out of his mouth and giggles before putting it back in his mouth. He tucks his head against my shoulder and … Continue reading Sleep.
You know you’re an editor when…
...this daily email from LinkedIn annoys the shit out of you because it is so glaringly incorrect. Come on, LinkedIn-employee-who-titled-the-daily-job-digest! Fix that stupid effing preposition! This is the one and only reason I have never applied to a job posted on LinkedIn. Clearly, I need to unsubscribe from this email list.
Stemming the flow.
Mother-writers often lament the absence of the muse amid the chaos a new little one brings into the everyday. "How am I supposed to be inspired when I can barely keep my eyes open in this ten-minute window I have managed to find for myself?" they cry. "Should I really skip this opportunity to shower? … Continue reading Stemming the flow.
Squeezing the writing into my everyday.
A writer friend linked to this lovely and inspiring piece, by Michelle Aldredge, about the ways the constraints of life, particularly those of parenthood, are essential to creativity. (Robin, the writer friend who led me to Michelle's post, writes truly beautiful things herself.) I considered the spaces into which I squeeze my own writing. My … Continue reading Squeezing the writing into my everyday.
The last chapter.
Friends at the bus stop just can't compete with the final chapter of a great book.
I had a brilliant idea for a post yesterday. I took my children to a local orchard for pumpkins and apples and raspberries. As I wove my way through tangled vines and perfect orange globes and briars nearly stripped of the last berries of summer and trees heavy with fruit, I had a stroke of … Continue reading Brilliance! (Gone.)
Guilty mama moment.
I've been too busy. Feeling the weight of having not a moment to breath, to think, to be, I did what every working mother would do: I Googled "achieving work-life balance."The moment when the amazing that is Google becomes less than amazing: When an overwhelmed, stressed out woman suddenly has 5.1 million results through which … Continue reading Guilty mama moment.
A gem from the memoir class I’m teaching.
The topic: Creating your own character, i.e., shaping your persona The exercise: Using a two-person scene you've already written, write the scene again using the other person as the first person narrator. Silence as they write. Silence. Silence. Silence. Then, a chuckle. I glance up from my lesson plan. Bill laughs, running his fingers over … Continue reading A gem from the memoir class I’m teaching.