Writing in a Busy World

I have a full-time job, a husband, three boys, two cats, and one old house.  I am expected to be an adult and do the daily mundane tasks, along with my husband, of feeding, bathing, clothing, rearing, shuttling, and all around civilizing said children.  Said house, much to my unending amazement and consternation, collects dust, dirty dishes and clothes, and just about all manner of debris – daily!  The job – teaching philosophy – minimally involves preparing and delivering lectures, assisting students, office hours, and the ever-present grading.

Beyond the basic demands of everyday life, I want a quality life, which involves being in real relationships.  Time with my husband and kids.  Time with my parents and friends.  Time with God.

And now I want to write.  Why?  Why have I done this to myself and family?  Why have I added this to my already full plate?

Story.

I love stories.  I always have.

Stories are powerful.  Stories can point beyond the self, serving to show deep and rich truths about the world.  Stories are/can be fun!

The first book I wrote was almost four years ago.  It was a book that approached weight-loss through virtue ethics.  I lost weight and wanted to help others.

Then I gained it back, and an eating disorder to boot!

One day I had the odd thought that I ought to write a novel because you can’t eat and write at the same time, right?  Uh, well, you can, but I came across the idea for THE KNOWERS and wrote it anyway, brushing the crumbs off my keyboard as I went along.

I’ve now completed a second book, GOLD MANOR, GHOST HOUSE and am working on the sequel to THE KNOWERS.

Why write, when there are so many other things I could, and should, be doing?  Why should you write, when your life is brimming over?

The best answer – and the only answer for me – is love of story.  Many times I hate the process.  I absolute loathe the process of trying to get publish.  But the story?  All love.