Running In Place

Doing the things.

So, we meet again. Hopefully not for the last time … though, possibly for the first time … for the last time. I’m feeling a Spaceballs quote coming on but I shall refrain. If you don’t get that joke, you need a little Mel Brooks in your life.

But let’s move on, shall we?

What a doozy the past year and half has been, huh? I feel like I’m writing the same post over and over. Like, hey, I’m trying to write and it’s slow but it will get done and I’ll just keep trying and blah blah blah.

The truth? Life has been H.A.R.D. I’m a fast writer (note I didn’t say talented-ha!). But since the pandemic, I’ve been whining about how slow I am. When, more realistically, I’m not slow. I’m simply not prioritizing it. I simply can’t.

Like many of you, life has punched me in the throat several times lately. My family and I have been floating in and out of survival mode. We’re trying to prioritize mental health and it’s not easy to do so. Putting the needs of my family ahead of my writing is what’s happening. And that’s okay.

The issue I’m taking with my current situation is that writing brings me joy. I like the process. Okay, okay, I fucking hate editing, but I seriously enjoy coming up with a story. I write for me. That I can make five or six figures year to year off of my stories, on top of finding joy in the process, is a godsend. Yes, I still have sales, and that’s nice, but I’ve lost the moments of joy I was getting on the regular.

I’m desperately trying to balance the needs of my family with my own needs. My kids were drowning, trying to manage school online and we adjusted to do things we had to do. I’m totally okay with this. But I’m not okay with losing the little pieces I need for me. So I had to figure out how to balance it all.

Anyone who knows me knows I’m not a balancer. I might be ADD and that’s not a joke. I go hard at one thing, sometimes obsessively, then it’s done and I find something else. That’s what I’ve done with my books in the past. Life isn’t conducive to that anymore–not that it ever really was.

So my new balance is this: I carve out time every week and hold it sacred. Sunday evenings are mine. It’s the only time I have to myself and I have to use it wisely. I wrote 2500 words this evening and I was happy with it. I have to plan the time moving forward. I want more than Sunday evenings so I can get this book finished, so my next step is to pick 2 full days a month where I can write, uninterrupted, and the family knows to leave me alone.

As I type this, there’s a man behind me waiting to ask me something. It’s Sunday evening. It’s my time. And he waits quietly and I’m actually laughing because I think he thinks I’m going to claw off his face if he speaks. Little does he know, I’m not working on the book right now. I’m bitching about stuff online. Should I tell him to approach the Queen or make him wait?

…my stomach just growled so I think this is where I leave you. Mama’s gotta eat.

Have a fabulous week, friends!