In Synch

Today, three of my kids are heading off with their father to the country club where he works so they can use the pool there, which means I . . . in some sure sign of an impending apocalypse, am going to be ALONE all day. I barely know what to do with myself. I mean, I could head up to bed and watch a marathon of this today. After all, if it's a holiday weekend, there MUST be a Law & Order marathon on.

But most likely . . . I will work and write.

Which brings me to my blog topic for today. One of the odd things about being a writer is how much time I spend out of synch with the rest of the world. Even before I wrote full-time, I was squeezing writing time in at home around the edges. Now that I do write full-time, weekends are actually this fluid thing. They don't mean much except that I have extra people around the house. Writing happens when people are sleeping at night, or before anyone else wakes up. Deadlines mean . . . well, sometimes the rest of the world is enjoying a holiday weekend, while I am at my keyboard.

On the flip side . . . I like that I am not beholden to the 9 to 5 routine. I would hate that. But most definitely, I don't seem in synch with the way the rest of the world views work time or play time.

How about you? Anyone have any fun Memorial Day plans?

Writing Day

Today is a writing day.

"What?" you ask. (See, I can really ALL your minds.) "Isn't EVERY day a writing day?'

"Hahahahahahahahahaha!" I laugh, wiping the tears away. There. My tears of laughter have fallen on my keyboard. One perfect teardop is there on letter "k." Now I typed it and it's not there anymore.

Here's a quote that relates to this post (from one of my favorite writers):

The way you define yourself as a writer is that you write every time you have a free minute. If you didn't behave that way you would never do anything. ~ John Irving

And here's the thing about "Writing Day." I get asked all the time--it's one of those interview questions that pops up again and again--"What's a typical writing day for you?" or "What's your writing schedule?"

"Hahahahahahahahahahaha!" Sorry, I had to laugh again. You see, I don't have one. I used to say that I wished I had one, but that Demon Baby and three other children and life as a mother of four and a volunteer and a general b-word got in the way. But that's not quite true. Because I've been this way for so long, I don't know what I would do if I could have a schedule. If in some weird alternate universe the laundry was done and the beds were made, and my dad WASN'T visiting and wanting me to look up "diverticulosis" symptoms on the internet. And Older Son wasn't Food Poisoning Boy (turns out, after some thinking, it's NOT the flu but . . . beef-fried rice--thank God, I don't eat meat). If Older Daughter wasn't creating laundry with her mere existence. (She's a FOOT shorter than I am but uses three towels per shower, which calculates to some heavy-duty towel real estate per square inch of wet body.)

See, this is just how I am. But all that said, and I am quite chatty and laugh-filled this a.m., today is a writing day. Which means that the laundry is only the height of my waist and not my head, no one is vomiting (Food Poisoning Boy just FEELS awful, but the Alien-like eruptions have stopped), Dad has an appointment with a G.I. doctor so I can stop playing Web M.D., the kitchen is (sort of) clean. And so I can, without guilt, without anything but delight, open up my new book, read through the first 75 pages and then send them off to my wonderful new editor, who is really growing on me when he says stuff like, "I am SO excited for this book, I am bringing ARCs to Barcelona."

And, like John Irving says, this is what I do when I have a day like today. When I have a spare minute. I am as GIDDY as a schoolgirl. Or a Demon Baby who has found his sister's stash of M&Ms. Yes, I am at this game YEARS now, and a day like today still rocks my world. It is STILL that fun. It is STILL what I want to do when I grow up.

Yesterday, Alyson Noel summed it up here on the blog in the comments section. A bad day writing is better than a good day as a flight attendant wearing horrid polyester. (And go congratulate Alyson on her new book deal!)

So do you have a writing schedule? And is a writing day still . . . electric? Better than finding your sister's M&M stash? Yesterday was about I-Suck-itis. Today is a celebration. Celebrate Writing Day. Celebrate laundry being done. Celebrate the fact that diverticulosis isn't fatal, Dad. Celebrate Demon Baby's nanny comes today (I get her for 12 wonderful hours a week!) Celebrate . . . you have a spare moment and can write because it's what you do. What do you have to celebrate?