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thoughts for aspiring
writers
finding time to write
By
Tamra Norton
I
can think of 167 reasons why I’m too busy to sit down and write—and
at least half of them are actually valid. Let’s face it…as parents,
spouses, members of the church, neighbors, exercisers, Oprah viewers
(this list could go on and on) we are very busy people. And as the
mother of seven children—one in college, five home schooled, and one
in diapers—I haven’t felt my load lighten much since I saw that
first pink plus sign on a home pregnancy test nearly two decades
ago.
Now, please don’t break out the tissue—I love being a “mom of many.”
I wouldn’t trade a single one of those sticky-faced kisses, or
adolescence induced melt-downs that I’ve shared with my yungins’ for
an entire week at The Maui Writers Conference or my name emblazoned
across the top of a New York Times bestseller. (Hold on a minute
while I touch my nose to make sure it isn’t sprouting a branch—Oh,
I’m kidding…I’m kidding!)
But as dedicated as I am to my boisterous bunch, we have all learned
a fundamental lesson that applies to our particular family; If Mommy
can’t—or doesn’t— make time to write, Mommy is not a very happy
person.
It’s not that I walk around grumpy all the time if I’m not writing.
I’m more prone to depression followed closely by a chocolate-induced
coma. And this is precisely why I’ve made writing an important
aspect of my daily life along with such basics as eating, bathing,
reading, praying, teaching, mothering, e-mailing—Oh, I’d better not
go there!
Herein lies my dilemma: How is it that I have this fundamental need
to express myself through writing, and yet, some days I’ve avoid the
Microsoft Word icon on my computer like I do an e-mail beginning
with the statement: Fwd: THIS REALLY WORKS! followed by 68 e-mail
addresses? (Oops…I wasn’t going to go there).
The fact is, achieving a consistent writing schedule takes
discipline—which is something I lack a good deal of (refer back to
the chocolate induced coma remark). And yet, I have written two
published LDS novels in the past two years, and I’ve got two more in
the works. So now the question is, how does this undisciplined
mother of seven do it?
The answer: I had to find out what worked for me! This may sound
simplistic, but it’s a crucial concept. I have a very successful
writer friend that has published a half dozen or so LDS novels while
employed full time as a city manager, and serving on his stake’s
high council. How does he do it? He writes every morning from 5 to
7. Would this work for me? I truly doubt it. It’s all I can do to
scramble eggs without tipping over during these daybreak hours.
My
mornings are filled with getting three teenagers off to seminary,
sending hubby off to work, fixing the younger ones breakfast and
then getting them started on home school assignments. I’m in total
“task-master” mode from 5:45 a.m. until about noon at which point I
not-so-gracefully collapse into bed with my littlest one—I’m totally
into the siesta concept and truly believe the Mexicans are divinely
inspired. I’d even bet that in Heaven, naptime is the accepted norm!
So, when do I write?
I
have learned through trial and error that my peek writing time—the
time when I’m most creative and productive—is after my little ones
have gone to bed. My teenagers are usually reading in their rooms
until they drop off to sleep—a habit they’ve picked up from their
mom and dad. And my dear husband is already sleeping since he has to
wake up so early. The lights around the house are dim and the only
noise I hear is the fan in my bedroom channeled through the baby
monitor sitting near my desk—oh, and the occasional snoring of my
dear one.
This is my magical hour! This is when my mind and fingers come
alive. Thoughts and words seem to flow freely and abundantly as I
delve into the worlds and minds of my protagonists. I become a
teenage girl dealing with the struggles of adolescence, a college
co-ed who has built up expectations about falling in love, or a nine
year old trying to deal with childhood in new surroundings.
I
am lost in other worlds.
I
am home!
I
resist the urge to check any e-mail until I’ve written at least a
certain amount of words (you may not understand this concept unless
you’re an e-mail addict like me). I actually use this as
leverage…and it works! So this is my suggestion…find what works for
you, and in the words of President Kimball—“DO IT!”
©2003 Tamra Norton
"I'm a Writer,
Right?" by Tamra Norton
I
finally did it! I’m not sure where I mustered up the courage, but I
really did it! And, guess what? My nose didn’t grow longer, lightening
didn’t strike me down, and best of all, nobody rolled their eyes,
sympathetically patted me on the back, or—horror of horrors—laughed at
me. Yes, this past February, while sitting across from Mr. H&R I
looked deep into accounting eyes and declared my occupation as
“Writer” on my 2002 income tax return. Now I’m official, right?
I’ve
been working on and off at this writing gig for at least ten years (okay,
more off than on—I tend to write in spurts). But I could probably line a
birdcage for decades with rejection letters from uninterested editors,
publishers and agents. So, why has it taken me this long to officially
bestow upon myself the esteemed title of “Writer”?
Wasn’t
I a writer back in college when I received an A of that first composition
I turned in? Wasn’t I a writer ten years ago when I transformed my
emotions into words and wrote a poem for my parents about a sister I feel
so close to, but never actually knew in this earthly life because she
passed away before I was even born? Wasn’t I a writer when I submitted
countless articles and stories to magazines, all returned with that doggon
“Thanks, but no thanks” letter? Wasn’t I a writer when I poured my
soul and sweat into numerous Christmas letters, newsletters, poems,
primary programs, stories, skits and newspaper columns? So why do I
finally feel like a writer?
Well,
I’d be lying if I didn’t say that it felt fabulous to receive a W-2
from a publisher this past year. But, to be honest, most days, I really
don’t feel much like a writer. Isn’t a writer someone who sits in a
solitary atmosphere—perhaps in an attic transformed into a writers
studio looking out onto a meadow swaying with wildflowers? Don’t writers
spend their days at the park, sitting under the shade of a massive elm,
scrawling on a legal pad while nature acts as their muse? Isn’t it time
that we give up these romantic notions about the life of a writer, and
join reality?
I
wrote most of my last manuscript one handed, in my pajamas, with a newborn
connected to me. After all, breastfeeding is
the healthiest form of nutrition—and it was the only way to get work
done while keeping my little “bundle of joy” happy. Also, my
“writer’s studio” is my dining room transformed into a computer room
that looks out onto my un-mowed back lawn. With very little imagination I
can almost picture a meadow! And since I have seven children, ages 12
months to 17 years, my “muse” is often interrupted by piano practice,
sibling squabbles, requests for food, the blaring music of Limp
Bizkit or Saliva from my
sixteen year olds CD player, and the perpetual plea of my four year old,
“Mommy, will you wipe my bottom?” At least the kid’s concerned with
proper hygiene—I must be doing something
right.
I
say that if we want to write, and we put any
effort into this dream, then we are
writers! It doesn’t take some
magic component like a “writer’s studio” or an acceptance letter
from an editor. Those are things that may come in the future, but let’s
not have these future dreams seem so far reaching that we let them hinder
our progress today—by the way, I consider one paragraph, progress!
I’d
like to issue a challenge. Next time you fill out a form for a library
card, driver’s license, or the IRS, make that bold move. When it comes
time to fill out the “occupation” line, declare yourself a
“Writer”. If you won’t, no one else will.
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