You know what frustrates me? Black buttons on black electronics. The kind that imitate secret doors in that you can neither see nor feel where it should be. You have to know where it is in order to make your device work.
Enough said about that.
I need to find a new way to write. I don’t want to change my actual style; I need to find a better way to get it done.
I’ve been very frustrated lately at my lack of progress. I can’t write when there are constant interruptions, and as a mom, I have lots of those. Not to mention that my hubby just spent the last couple of weeks out of town, meaning I’ve been even busier than usual.
The worst frustration comes when I have been expecting and anticipating something that relieves my exertions, and then that time is unexpectedly postponed. Biking up a large hill, seeing the crest, reaching the crest, then realizing that it is not the crest, it is merely a slightly less steep hill for a short distance, and then it starts climbing again. Being sick, thinking that it will run its course in a few days just like it did for the person who gave you the plague in the first place, but after a week you’re still feeling miserable. Having a hard day and looking forward to the hubby coming home, and he calls to say he’s running late.
My daughter finished 5th grade back on June 15. The first three weeks of summer were spent with my parents visiting and my hubby spending most of his time at the Star Trek Phase II shoot. It’s been a good three weeks, but the days have been full and busy. For three weeks, our regular schedule was planned to be disrupted in a good way.
Then it was supposed to be over.
Hubby was supposed to have a few days to spend with the girls and wind down before returning to work.
I was supposed to have a few days to dedicate to writing.
And then the car died. I mentioned in an earlier post that I might have to sell my pseudonym. Fortunately, that didn’t happen, although the mechanic’s estimate was far more than we can afford. Hubby bought the part, and he’s spent his few days of rest flat on his back in the driveway (when it hasn’t been thundering and raining out) taking apart all the mechanical bits so he can reach and replace the broken one. His carpal tunnel doesn’t help the process.
It’s hard to muster up self-pity about not getting time to write when hubby is already exhausted from his days on the shoot and now he’s breaking his back and hands to make sure we don’t go without transportation. Writing still feels selfish. It feels like something this housewife is doing for fun; a hobby that really isn’t all that important in the long run.
I need to find a new way to write. A few months ago, I would have said I didn’t have the brainpower to shut the door to distractions and say “I am going to write for an hour.” A few months ago, I would have said an hour wasn’t enough.
But since starting this blog, I’ve become a stronger writer. On twitter, friends sometimes say “Who wants to go #1k1hr?” meaning we all try to write a thousand words in just an hour. This is a very reachable goal, when you set your mind to it. Heck, last time, the ice cream truck interrupted that hour and I still made it! At the end of the month, I could have thirty thousand words, which is far more than I’ve written in the last three months.
Twitter friends have recently been touting something called A Round of Words in 80 Days, or #ROW80. The idea is that each writer sets their own goal for the eighty days. Round three begins today. I had thought that life was too chaotic during the summer to set any specific goal, but if I’m going to transition from being a housewife with a hobby to a writer with serious work to do, I have to change something. Sitting in the back of the roller coaster is only taking me in circles. It’s time to design a new track.
The shortlink for this post is http://wp.me/p1qnT4-dZ
Goal: the equivalent of #1k1hr every day. Either write or revise 80,000 words by September 22.