This past week, I began writing my third book in my fantasy romance series. Even though I try and balance a busy schedule, my day to day activities between family, work, and trying to keep physically fit, I must work in time to write as well. Some days this week have been busier than usual, but I at least squeezed in writing one chapter every day.
Monday was my first set day that I programed time to write, after I dropped kids off at school, and then went for a walk at the park. To me when I'm amongst the trees, and the little streams that weave their way in, and out of the trails, I can clear my head and relax, but it's there where the magic happens. In my minds eye I can let my characters of my story start talking to each other. I'm sure that sounds crazy, but it really works, and I'm sure I'm crazy to some extent (insert joke here).
Anyway, I develop my ideas into real life scenarios. How would they do things, discuss the problem, and find a way to get the job done. If you think about my characters as actors going over a script, and the script is the storyline I've given to them, I think it makes more sense, well to me it does after explaining such a weird writing trick that I use. Nevertheless, my scene for the next chapter was just acted out in my head, so now it's time to finish my last lap at the park, and make like a tree, and leave.
Once I return home I make myself a nice breakfast, and my morning tea. Now that I have some brain food in me, and nestled in my favorite new writing spot in what I call my porchtress of solitude. There I have a lovely view of my backyard, so I can watch either my dogs play, or I can watch the many different species of birds that fly into my yard seeking dominance over the squirrels. This is my idea of the perfect job, a place where I can write, and I can relax in peace, and quiet.
After I've given myself a few hours of writing; generally giving me enough time to write at least another chapter or two, before I have to turn into a parent, and retrieve the kids from school. Then it's the usual drill of homework, supper, bath-time, and bedtime.
Once the kids are in bed I vegetate in front of the TV, I watch so many different shows it's difficult to watch them all in one night. Having the time to myself to relax is wonderful, and it lulls me too sleepy mode, and then it's bedtime for me.
I continued the daily repetitious routine for the week, and I've done the best I could with my new time management.
I've had two queries come back only to have been rejections, but that's okay, a few more to add to the hundred or so over the years isn't going to make much of a difference. I don't get upset, and cry anymore when I receive them, or feel like an epic failure, and want to stop writing. I've been there, done that, and should have a T-shirt to go with it that reads, "I'm a walking rejection" but I'll never give up.
I have in the past stopped writing, one time it was for a year, it was the latest in a long time I've gone without writing. I've also gone years on end without writing not a single poem, story, or anything to do with words forming a sentence. Eventually the words came to me, and I was conflicted on whether it was worth doing, but then I couldn't stop the flow of words. They're too strong, and I'm once again a slave to pros, and proper sentence structure.
Why do I let myself be tortured in such a way, that my own creative mind challenges my will, and wins out every time?Why? Because I love the written word, I love writing words that express feelings, and words that drive our very souls to want to exist. Without words there would be nothing to say, no communication, no expression, and no freedom of the press.
So ask me, go on, you can ask why am I writing all this crap that no one cares about? I'm not a celebrity, or a politician, or anyone in the public eye at all.
My life is meaningless to strangers reading this right now, but they're getting to know me, understanding me right now, what I'm going through on this incredible journey to try and succeed, to live my aspirations of becoming a published author, to become my dream. That maybe, just maybe, I will become a somebody, instead of that nobody that no one has ever heard of, but that's okay because one day they will have heard of me, or have read my work. To read this column week after week, to see if it really will happen for me, to give others hope to never give up the fight, to dare to overcome your fears, and to let yourself dream big.