School is officially out for the summer here. My son is happily lazing for these first few days – probably a week, really – and as his parent I am dutifully hunting for ways to keep him occupied and learning. Which, to be fair, will probably only last a week or two and we’ll both get into a routine where I’m constantly interrupted from writing due to his very existence.
Because he needs food.
Or he found a funny video.
Or he wants to include me in on his own writing schemes and ask for advice. (Be still, my beating heart!)
Yes, I have encouraged him to do this. He’s 15. I’m 90% certain he can get a tiny part-time something or other at this age doing something on a farm or landscaping or whatever. Because this experience is important. Clocking in and out and being held accountable for certain hours of your day is, in fact, paramount to survival in our society.
And it’s humbling.
I hated working in fast food, but I wouldn’t trade the experience of having done it. You won’t ever see me snarling at some poor Schmoe at the cash register for getting my change wrong, because I was once that poor Schmoe. So, yes, I want my son to put himself in those shoes for a summer or two.
Not at fast food yet, though. That can be next year or the year after.
So where, or where will my writing time be?
I suppose we will have to see. He does have interest in web design and such, so I might let him try his hand at building me a brand spanking new website over the summer, which would cut down transportation costs and permit me to write more, but it loses the “Clock in and Out” part because… you know… I’m his mother.
The alarm goes off at 6:30 AM every morning and I drag myself from bed just long enough to hit the snooze button. It’s a ritual at this point; no sooner has the Band of Brother’s soundtrack begun than I’ve cut it off, grumbling something incoherent before flopping back onto my pillow.
At this point the Orange Beast crawls onto my chest or back, depending on how I’ve landed, and begins pawing at my face until I pet him.
The Orange Beast
Ten minutes later the orchestra goes off again and I trudge over to my kitchen to start the coffee because, let’s face it, I just can’t function without at least one cup of coffee in me. Somewhere in the foggy minutes before the coffee is done brewing I manage to fill my kid’s bowl up with cereal and make the first call to get him out of bed.
I’ve learned not to put milk in the bowl until I see him emerge from his room, otherwise the cereal gets soggy.
I’ve also learned to dress myself first before making sure the child gets everything he needs for the day. Shoes, jacket, computer bag, school bag, lunch bags, and we’re off!
Most of the time I “read” books by listening to them via my iPad. I have an active Audible account but I do hunt for podio-books or other forms of audio books to listen to while I’m at my day job. For actual “sit-me-down-to-read” time I have to wait for my break.
Or there’s the bedtime story for the kiddo. We’ve been reading Star Wars novels lately but that’s bound to change.
In any case, my time is severely limited and I tend to focus on the audio books these days because it frees up my break for personal writing. I’ve found that if I use my break to write something then it sticks with me, ruminating in the back of my mind for the rest of the day so that, when the child has been bathed and put to bed, I can sit down and do my “real” writing.
“Real” writing is when I know I’m going to have uninterrupted blocks of time to dive into the work. Though, to be completely honest, these are very rare. I am a single parent and so there is no such thing as “uninterrupted” time anymore.
(AKA – He’s supposed to be in bed at 8:00PM but wanders out every now and then for water, a hug, or to tell me something his seven-year-old brain has determined is of the utmost importance.)
What I’ve discovered I have to do to get any work done is shove my headphones on, listen for 5 minutes to something orchestral like the Captain America Winter Soldier soundtrack or the Last of the Mohicans soundtrack or … you get it … with my fingers poised over the keyboard until I get into the groove again.
This is almost always interrupted by the child, who wants or needs my attention for something, and … frankly, can be quite frustrating sometimes. There are days I have to shut the whole thing down and go play with the kiddo. There are days when I get all of 500 words written.
But there are other days when I get 3,000 words written.
It’s alright, though. Words are written. Plots are discovered. Somehow I manage to meet my deadlines on time and my kiddo knows that there is nothing more important to me than he is.
I’m happy to roll with the punches so long as that fact remains embedded in his mind.
Check out what my fellow authors do to keep reading and writing a priority!
Alright! So about a week ago my friend Lisa Janice Cohen — author of The Between — challenged me to write a post about ten things I love that begin with the letter “P”. It seriously took me this long to come up with my list, but here it is!
Potatoes! — Anyone who knows me at all will laugh at that this. I love potatoes in just about any form I can get them. Except chips. I’ll eat chips, but I just … yeah. Not a huge fan.
Philanthropy — Honestly, we’re all on this planet together and we have a responsibility to each other. There’s no reason any child should ever go hungry. We all just need to step up and help where and when we can. (I’ll even share my potatoes if I need to.)
Puppies
— Oh, come on. Who doesn’t love puppies? Just look at them!
Panda’s — Well, I’m kinda cheating here. I love Red Panda’s especially. My local zoo just got a new pair and they are so fuzzy and adorable I would just love to take them home and snuggle them. If I wasn’t afraid of the big teeth, of course. They do have some sharp chompers.
Procrustean — Just the word, I promise. But I mostly love the word because of the history behind it. And in case you weren’t aware of it, I think I’ll educate you! In Greek mythology there was this dude called Procrustes. He was a bit of a bandit, but not in the fun Robin Hood way. He would put his victims on an iron bed and if they were too short, he would stretch them until they fit. If they were too tall, he’d start lobbing off appendages to get everything to conform just right. Thus leading to the definition of Procrustean as :: marked by arbitrary often ruthless disregard of individual differences or special circumstances.
And now I’ll bet you’ll never forget what that word means. And yes, if I’d been given the letter “H” for this, I would likely have chosen History as one of my great loves. Since I couldn’t, I get to torture you with that image instead.
People — Generally speaking, I love people. We are all so weird. I mean, just watch us for a day.
Patterns — I like ivy patterns the best, but when it comes to decoration I do like anything colorful and patterned to give a sense of diversity to a room.
The Princess Bride — I’m cheating here, too. But, eh, I would be remiss if I didn’t point out the Princess Bride. In fact, my son and I just watched it the other night. He’s insistent that he is the man in the black mask. But I wouldn’t worry too much. He insisted that he was Spok when we watched Star Trek, too.
Paper & Pens — It’s a dangerous thing to let me loose in the office supply section of any store. Seriously. I write my first draft via pen and paper. Every story. Every time. I’m sure I’ll have horrible arthritis when I’m older, but for now it works.
And last but not least …
Parenthood — There are moments when my son drives me crazy. When he won’t listen and I have to sit him down and have a discussion with him about what he did wrong and why he can’t do it anymore and all that jazz … but on the whole, being a parent is one of the most fulfilling, wonderful things in this world.
— Oh, come on. Who doesn’t love puppies? Just look at them!