A few months ago the best unfortunate event happened to me. I lost my favorite client- the client who paid me well to write meaningful articles. And I decided that enough is enough. Before that, I thought I would use some of my maternity leave to finish my first middle grade book. But after that happened, something in me changed. Awoke, if you will. I decided that I am done with drivel-SEO content. I want to be an author. A writer. Published, professional, and working on my craft.
After that decision, things burst open in me. I edited and edited, and my middle grade manuscript was “done” in a matter of months. Then I dove headfirst into my next manuscript- a YA psych thriller that lives in a dark place.
I work on it every day, probably more than I should. I can tell my husband is irritated that the housework doesn’t get done and dinner is often late. After all, I am on leave, aren’t I? But I can’t stop writing. Page after page flies out of me. In the past month, I have written over 75,000 words on my new manuscript, never feeling pressed to write, only feeling like there isn’t enough time to get the words out. And I have a list of ideas that are just begging to be written next.
It is as if I made a decision and all of the blockage of responsibility over the past fifteen years- the blockage that claims writing isn’t a job- lifted.
Now, when maternity leave ends and I have to actually contribute to the family finances, I don’t want this to end. I am determined to be well on my way to publication at that point. I am determined to be a writer. An author.
I want this to last. This immersion. This feeling of meaningful creation. This absolute love of my life. The dishes can wait. So can dinner.