“Ask Demon if I can borrow my wife,” hubby says from across the laptop screen. “I’m sure it wouldn’t kill him if she gave me a little love too!”
“Why is he always saying that?” Demon frowns from within the Word document I’m editing.
“Because it’s the weekend and past midnight,” my husband replies. “She needs to get some rest!”
“Well, the answer is no.” Demon scoffs, sliding lazily back in his lounger. “I need to be more comfortable in this scene so don’t disturb her. Write away darling. You missed a word there.”
“Actually I am tired,” I say rubbing my neck. “My neck is cramping.”
My husband smiles and massages my shoulders and neck that force my eyes shut and the brain to relax.
“Excuse me!” Demon shouts. “I’m stuck here and losing to Aoife’s word vomit! You there! Get your hands off my writer!”
“Oh, I really should finish!” I snap back to the looming second draft of my first novel and sit straight again.
“Don’t tempt me or I’ll delete him!” My husband warns.
“You wouldn’t dare!” Demon hisses, his eyes flaring up.
Sigh! Just another moment of husband time v writing time :)
Being a writer is not easy. I may have said that a billion times and each time I did not mean it was difficult to come up with things to write about or that I was short on ideas. Nope. My dilemma is in fact which ideas to pick first since they all jump over me screaming in their tiny voices Pick me! Pick me! like little munchkins lost in high grass blades and afraid of being trampled on.
So no, writer’s block is not my problem as is so commonly known to be the only disease plaguing a writer’s mind. And there’s a reason for that. Writer’s block is something that troubles a mind that has already said whatever it craved to share and now there’s no more. Such a mind has probably been out there a long time, made a name for itself that people like to pay attention to, which is why when it’s blocked – people pay attention to that too.
But what about me? Or writers like me? Writers who are just starting out and have so much to say and share; whose minds are forever brewing fresh thoughts and brimming with vocabulary to express self and impress others.
My kind usually suffers from writer’s bulk. Uhm…don’t read too much into it, it’s not a real term ;) Point is! The dialogues you read up there are a reflection of what plagues me. There was a time when I couldn’t get away from the housewife in me to make time for the writer and now the writer is so vicious she wants to take over everything. Even precious family time.
So now I’m thinking – that’s gotta stop!
But I found it extremely hard to do. For you see, whenever I have a thought in my mind, it begs to be written down or my head swells up the size of a huge boulder and threatens to burst out and shower everything with bits of gray. I swear that’s a real feeling! I can actually feel that swelling.
Then, there are the characters I create. They’re like my own kids. There are times when they listen and behave and deserve a good treat. There are times when they throw a tantrum and whine and be bratty and basically make life difficult calling for a time out. And like my own kids, their demands for attention are never ending. They don’t care if laundry day was postponed because they were too rowdy up in my head or that I forgot to cook because I was too busy plotting. As long as I dish them out their candies, they’re
happy.
I can feel my non-writer friends shake their heads and say how crazy I sound but I know my writer friends understand to the hilt. As does my husband. He should win a prize for being patient. And it was because of him that I realized I needed to discipline my fictitious babies. I simply had to learn to say no to them when no needed to be said. As fast as I felt my writing life taking over everything else, I had to carve out boundaries and niches again for the various roles and facets that pieced the whole of me together and place them in an orderly fashion so I could function – the homemaker and the writer.
Hence, Demon had to be ditched for the weekend…and most evenings…and nights.
I decided I wouldn’t work on weekends. I also try – as hard as I possibly can – to not touch and stash away the laptop when Asif gets home. He may never complain but I know he still would want to have that cup of tea with me instead of me and my laptop. And just for fun – and to perhaps tease Demon for being such a smart mouth, I’ll take the whole week off and watch movies.
And get my much needed neck massages too…
“Why is he always saying that?” Demon frowns from within the Word document I’m editing.
“Because it’s the weekend and past midnight,” my husband replies. “She needs to get some rest!”
“Well, the answer is no.” Demon scoffs, sliding lazily back in his lounger. “I need to be more comfortable in this scene so don’t disturb her. Write away darling. You missed a word there.”
“Actually I am tired,” I say rubbing my neck. “My neck is cramping.”
My husband smiles and massages my shoulders and neck that force my eyes shut and the brain to relax.
“Excuse me!” Demon shouts. “I’m stuck here and losing to Aoife’s word vomit! You there! Get your hands off my writer!”
“Oh, I really should finish!” I snap back to the looming second draft of my first novel and sit straight again.
“Don’t tempt me or I’ll delete him!” My husband warns.
“You wouldn’t dare!” Demon hisses, his eyes flaring up.
Sigh! Just another moment of husband time v writing time :)
Being a writer is not easy. I may have said that a billion times and each time I did not mean it was difficult to come up with things to write about or that I was short on ideas. Nope. My dilemma is in fact which ideas to pick first since they all jump over me screaming in their tiny voices Pick me! Pick me! like little munchkins lost in high grass blades and afraid of being trampled on.
So no, writer’s block is not my problem as is so commonly known to be the only disease plaguing a writer’s mind. And there’s a reason for that. Writer’s block is something that troubles a mind that has already said whatever it craved to share and now there’s no more. Such a mind has probably been out there a long time, made a name for itself that people like to pay attention to, which is why when it’s blocked – people pay attention to that too.
But what about me? Or writers like me? Writers who are just starting out and have so much to say and share; whose minds are forever brewing fresh thoughts and brimming with vocabulary to express self and impress others.
My kind usually suffers from writer’s bulk. Uhm…don’t read too much into it, it’s not a real term ;) Point is! The dialogues you read up there are a reflection of what plagues me. There was a time when I couldn’t get away from the housewife in me to make time for the writer and now the writer is so vicious she wants to take over everything. Even precious family time.
So now I’m thinking – that’s gotta stop!
But I found it extremely hard to do. For you see, whenever I have a thought in my mind, it begs to be written down or my head swells up the size of a huge boulder and threatens to burst out and shower everything with bits of gray. I swear that’s a real feeling! I can actually feel that swelling.
Then, there are the characters I create. They’re like my own kids. There are times when they listen and behave and deserve a good treat. There are times when they throw a tantrum and whine and be bratty and basically make life difficult calling for a time out. And like my own kids, their demands for attention are never ending. They don’t care if laundry day was postponed because they were too rowdy up in my head or that I forgot to cook because I was too busy plotting. As long as I dish them out their candies, they’re
happy.
I can feel my non-writer friends shake their heads and say how crazy I sound but I know my writer friends understand to the hilt. As does my husband. He should win a prize for being patient. And it was because of him that I realized I needed to discipline my fictitious babies. I simply had to learn to say no to them when no needed to be said. As fast as I felt my writing life taking over everything else, I had to carve out boundaries and niches again for the various roles and facets that pieced the whole of me together and place them in an orderly fashion so I could function – the homemaker and the writer.
Hence, Demon had to be ditched for the weekend…and most evenings…and nights.
I decided I wouldn’t work on weekends. I also try – as hard as I possibly can – to not touch and stash away the laptop when Asif gets home. He may never complain but I know he still would want to have that cup of tea with me instead of me and my laptop. And just for fun – and to perhaps tease Demon for being such a smart mouth, I’ll take the whole week off and watch movies.
And get my much needed neck massages too…
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