It is time. I’ve been hiding inside my little blog, escaping into the easy and fun social life of blogging while avoiding my work. The meat and potatoes of a writer’s life. Blogging is fun, easy, conversational. I can whip up a song with my morning coffee. I miss chatting with others. I have a 4-year-old that has been building little homes for squirrels with old packing boxes and we have been discussing whether they need carpeting or not being that its winter and all. We have talked about his pet truck named Darington and his little brother has gotten into my tape, demanded I nurse several times, and is now hiding in the other room to have a moment. It is no wonder I love a good grown up chat even if it’s one-sided at first. Motherhood is wonderful and wonderous…and can be lonely.
However, I am blogging more and writing less. Blogging is the latte and muffin, writing a book is the real meal that sustains me. It’s also work. I have to go into another dimension, conjure up characters for my play, dream up plots, drama, the climax, and then an end. There is outlining, diving in and focusing for long periods of time. Then there is the dreaded editing. I’m not wealthy enough to toss it to another person for the dirty work. I am a one woman show. I am the writer, administration, editing department, publisher, bookmaker, cover maker, and marketing.
I haven’t had too much luck with making a novel. I somehow poop out early around the novelette length or novella if I’m really ambitious. People love novels. They fall in love with the characters and want to spend some time with them living in their world. A novella gives you a couple bus rides worth of entertainment at the most. A novel gives you hours by the crackling fireside with your glass of wine or cup of steaming tea.
So, here I go. I have scenes and characters in my head all the time. I will sometimes witness an interaction in public between strangers and come up with a whole chapter. I just have to focus and stay on the path. I get bored and want to veer off the path and try other paths. I see a butterfly and want to follow it. I want to change the channel. But a novel takes time. Most good authors give themselves a year to write a book. I have written most of my books within weeks or a month. What can I say? I’m a bit neurotic and like to get it done. I also create the book in my mind for months before I ever write. By the time I start writing it’s almost like a secretary transcribing at that point.
So, the blogging will slow and the serious moments of writing begin in the mornings. My vacation has come to a close and I light my candle on the table, brew my coffee, roll up my sleeves and begin to direct a movie mind’s minds theater to type into book format.
To art and creation!