A time to write

Carving out time in the day to write can be very tricksome. My work day is obviously consumed by the high energy adrenaline rush of performing my urgent, life or death duties with utmost concentration, effectiveness and precision.

Evenings consist of snack-preparation, meal-making, colouring-book colouring, meal-eating, bathing, bed-putting and then being so brain-drained that the only option available is to collapse in front of Don Draper and Peggy for 45 minutes of vaguely boring, vaguely ominous, beautiful-looking television before crawling off to sleep.

Since I love being in bed by 10 and actually am deliciously excited when climbing under the covers by 9:30, staying up late is not an option. Weekends get eaten up by fun stuff, and when I do get the chance to write (like now, at a friend's cottage, while everyone's at the beach and I'm up here for the kiddo's nap) I work on "quick" stuff, which is usually blog or Internet-related...

All that being said, it can be challenging to actually work on creative-writing. Wah wah, I know, First World Problems.

I've made a new resolution for Fall though... Nights are longer, days are cooler, children are back at school, we're mere days away from a barrage of Christmas advertising ... The time seems right (of maybe I should say WRITE - hardy har har). I'm going to get up at 6 every morning and devote an hour to writing, not blogging or Internet browsing, but actually producing new material. It is time. I will do this. I will.

The things that weigh me down

Up until this point in my writing life, I haven't taken myself too seriously. Since I was a little kid I knew I wanted to write, but I am too conservative, too cautious and yes, too afraid, to attempt to make a career of it.

There is the lack of money, of course. Very very few authors, even so-called successful ones, make a living writing fiction. This is especially true in Canada, where our reading market is tiny. The five living Canadian fiction authors you can name of the top of your head? Maybe four of them make enough money from the sale of their work to live entirely on the profits. Everyone else is hustling, marketing, teaching, applying for grants, writing think pieces...

It's not only the grim financial reality that is a deterrent. Not to get too dramatic, but the writer's life is a solitary one. To do the job, by definition, you need to spend a lot of time by yourself, in your own head... Struggling to find the right word or express the right idea. I do well in a crowd, and parking myself at a desk for 8 hours a day can be killer. At times I'm completely unmotivated and then I feel like a failure.

That's the other thing. When I finished my Masters in English, I felt enormous relief. I'd spent two years with a constant, nagging feeling that there was more I should be doing. There was always another article I should be reading, another book to be analysed, an essay that could be improved. I eventually figured out that the entire point of grad school is to overwhelm the student and force them to make choices about time management. You can't do everything, so you have to prioritise. Even that knowledge didn't alleviate the incessant, nagging guilt I felt at failing to do all of the work assigned to me.

When I finished school and started my first 9 to 5 job, it was like I had been freed. I put in my 8 hours a day, walked out of the office, and it was over. The rest of the time, was mine. I could veg in front of the TV, burn out my retinas in front of a Tetris Marathon or go for drinks without the incessant back of my mind voice telling me I SHOULD be doing something else...

Deciding to pursue writing again has changed that. It's reintroduced that feeling of "should" into my life. I'm not complaining (though I know it sounds like I am). I get a ton of satisfaction from figuring out how to express an idea or capture a feeling in words, but it has meant that on top of parenting the small person (which, also, I am not complaining about) and being a somewhat decent employee and somewhat thoughtful wife/friend, I've got to accept something else to feel guilty about.

Days when the words flow, or they sound trite and lame, I don’t think it’s worth it. Then I hit my stride and luck is with me and I write something I feel really good about, and then I realise that it’s worth all the guilt.