Finish That Thing You Need To Write (Without A Cabin)

A few months ago, my newest book released to the public. Seeing as I had already submitted its first draft over a year ago, it was such a relief to finally have this baby of mine out in the world and available to sit on other people’s shelves. (It’s amazing how long the book-publishing process still takes in the twenty-first century.)

*Photo Credit: Walt Stoneburner, Creative Commons

I wrote that book in my office with the door shut while my husband fed our three kids on his own accord for about a month straight. I also wrote it on an unimpressive table on the second floor of our town’s public library, at a dozen random coffee shops, on our kitchen island as I watched the soup simmer, and on my lap in the passenger seat while Kyle drove us to the in-laws’ for Thanksgiving.

No writing cabin here, in other words.

I guess you could argue that I figuratively enjoyed a cabin-like experience, with my husband overseeing the child-feeding and laundry-folding tasks for that last month leading up to my deadline. I had my nose to the grindstone, and I didn’t do anything but work on my book for those four weeks – I ran guest posts and reruns on my blog, got off social media, and wrotewrotewrote. But I always emerged by dinner time every night, ate with the family and bathed the kids, and essentially lived my routine amidst the insane work of book-writing.

Don’t get me wrong, I would have loved to escape to a cabin of solitude. I totally get how that would make my writing better, my book more polished, my mind clearer. But it’s just not realistic in my life stage with three little kids and self-employment. And what a shame it would have been if I had let that stop me from trying my darndest and hitting the submit button to my publisher.

No matter how you slice it, book writing takes sacrifice.

For some, that might mean finding a cabin, even if it’s a dump — that’s certainly one way to write. And I very well may do that one day.

But it’s not the only way to get it done.

For other people, that sacrifice might be saying no to any form of free time for a season, choosing instead to make friends with the blinking cursor instead of barstools at the pub. It might mean an agreement between spouses on how to temporarily set aside normalcy while still keeping a brood of children alive and well. Or it might simply mean acceptance that a book’s completion will take longer than is preferred.

Madeline L’Engle once said, “Inspiration usually comes during work.”

Agatha Christie also said, “The best time for planning a book is while you’re doing the dishes.” Both of these women wisely speak to the reality behind many a writer’s work:

Our efforts are often blessed in spite of our lack of free time, not because of an abundance of it.

It doesn’t often make sense, but it seems to be true in the lives of many great talents.

Just like that cliché about the best ideas usually barreling into your brain while you’re in the shower, so, too, have I found that my writing seems to happen amidst laundry piles and weekly runs to Costco. It’s the sexy part of my life as an author and entrepreneur.

We all work differently.

And that’s more than okay — that’s how it should be, because we’re all wired differently. So don’t be discouraged if life hasn’t enabled you to write from a cabin right now. Hard work and sacrifice are often blessed in spite of that. Keep at it.

Finish That Thing You Need To Write (Without A Cabin) is a post from: Storyline Blog