I must admit there are days where I just want to do what’s easy and say to hell with what’s right.
Some days the sheer effort to teach my son what’s right and why it’s important to do what’s right even when he sees people left, right, and center NOT doing what’s right, exhausts me.
Some days the never ending battles to teach him responsibility for himself and to others, to think before acting, and help him learn to make right choices seems like more than one human can handle. (Editor’s commentary, I do have a fab hubby who sadly works more than hour each way from home for a major tech company. It is completely understood up here when you refer to yourself as a “Company X widow”.)
Wouldn’t it be easier to just to let my child languish in school, even if it destroys his soul?
(Please don’t read this as a statement against those whose children are thriving in full day, half day, or other kinder. My son simply is not.)
I would have so much time to write and yoga and walk the dogs. My house would be spotless. I would cook gourmet dinners every night.
But then I realize if I was the kind of person who took the easy way out I would probably have very little to say that would interest anyone. In fact I think my novels would be as empty as my soul would have to be.
I start to wonder is it really that important that I write this novel? Does it really matter if I get this all edited and polished in time for ABNA this year?
And my answer must be two fold.
No, it’s doesn’t matter. ABNA will come again next year.
And yes, it does. I cannot model being a robust functional compassionate member of society to my son without something for myself. This is what I do for me.
I know this post had little to do with editing. As I was working this morning at the write in (which I left early to get my son from school), I kept thinking oh I should talk about this in my blog today. But when I sat down to write, this is what appeared on my screen. I did edit three more chapters today. I found a few entertaining typos, like begs legs. um what? oh, yeah, bed legs. Clearly my brain was ahead of my fingers.
As practically an aside, this morning at the write in we talked about my post regarding the nature of writing and everyone at the table agreed that their characters were all in control no matter what they as the author thought. One good friend even said that’s why she thought outlines were pointless. The characters always changed the direction once you got started.
I will share one of the lines I came across today that amused me.
“Oh.” There was little else to say to a pilot with one arm.
giggle. I don’t know why that amuses me so. Perhaps that my characters are as flawed as the rest of us and occasionally find themselves tasting their own toes. Maybe that’s it.