December 1999 finds me sulking, worried about the year 2000 approaching and the calamity to come that I read about. Silly and stupid as this may sound, my life’s dream becoming a writer felt as though it had no chance at that point. Then January first…second…third rolled around and nothing had happened as predicted. No turmoil and I still had my manuscripts safely in tact in my computer. This is when I woke up from my 23-year-self-induced-coma-taking-care-of-everyone-else stupor. But let me backtrack for a minute…
I kept whining to my kids that all I wanted was a set of new notebooks and a neat pen to call my own for my books needing to be penned. Come January 8th, my b-day, my kids not only bought me notebooks to use for various story ideas, and my very own expensive pen let me add, but several ‘how-to’ writing books, and Writer’s Digest magazines. These gifts on my birthday stirred my Muse back into action and within two months I wrote my first screenplay, entered and won my first short story contest, and began two new novels.
In all honesty, my marriage and birth of my kids will always have top billing. But finally, my own interests and needs pushed through the long list of things that had invaded my life: taxi driving kids everywhere, nursing booboos, cooking food that took about five minutes to munch and two hours to prepare, and playing referee to all the MOM! screams. My Muse jumped out of me and has never allowed me to wiggle her back into oblivion.
It wasn’t the gifts presented to me that made my January 2000 birthday special and memorable to this day. Their combined efforts to buy the tools I needed to jumpstart my career whispered in my ear that they finally understood mom had needs, as well. To this day I am grateful and attribute everything I’ve accomplished thus far to them. My newest obstacle is to figure out how I can make them understand that writing needs peace and quiet and not, “Mom, what’s for lunch?”, “Mom, can you drive me to work?”, “Mom, Mom, Mom…”
7 comments:
Aren't kids great! :)
Oh I remember those days. I almost forgot Mom wasn't my given name. It's pretty bad when you go out and someone calls "Mom" and you turn around and say "What?"
My husband bought me an expensive fountain pen for my birthday when I decided I wanted a writing career. That was back before computers and I wrote a lot in long hand before I committed it to the electric typewriter. I didn't submit anything back then, but I wrote a lot of stories that sat in boxes for years. I didn't start writing and submitting until 2003when I confessed at our book club that I regretted not pursuing my writing. With their encouragement, I took a correspondence writing course and started submitting. I published my first book, Satin Sheets in 2006.
I'm not sure why we parent writers wait so long to write at times. Perhaps it's exhaustion, lack of sleep, time...but whatever it 'was' at least we're 'better late than never.'
Hi, I have been writing ever since I can remember. I wrote a long epic poem on a Greyhound Bus when I was 17 coming back from visiting my friend Richard in Milwaukee. Somewhere between Chicago and Detriot in the middle of the night. I have written poetry while riding my horse and walking my dogs and had conversations with some of my characters while driving to hockey games with the kids. I don't think I know how NOT to write. Which is kinda sad in a way. LOL I'm not saying everything I wrote was good, only that I wrote something.
I've always written for fun. But my actual career began about two years ago. Another author named N.J. Walters encouraged me to try and submit some of what I've written. So, after much badgering, I did. I got 2 rejections and then my very first acceptance and the rest is, as they say, history. But my highest point thus far was coming to Muse. Working with Lea, Litsa, Carrie, and all the other wonderful writers there has been an amazing experience for me. And sharing it with my mom and fellow Muse author is a dream come true.:-)
I told stories in grade school. I told big stories in high school. Then I went to war. Four years later I was in college pursuing a music career when my English profs suggested I might be a good fiction writer. I said no.
Through the years, I would take a spiral notebook from time to time and write the beginning of a novel, up to 50/60 pages. It would end up in the trunk of my car and go away when I traded cars.
After I'd retired and my wife went back to college, I started thinking plots again and soon had a huge novel on my hands. I took a couple of writing courses, (with apologies to Terry--NOT college courses). Wrote a couple of mainstream novels and a psychological suspense; turned to romance to prove a man can write the genre.
Now I'm getting into mystery in a big way and it seems I've been writing forever.
Oh yes, one thing. I was always an avid reader of everything people put into print. My mom was a teacher and had me reading at age three. When I was four I was kicked out of kindergarten after six weeks. Antisocial, they called me, because I used the blocks to spell words rather than to stack them. I kept taking blocks from other kids to make more words LOL.
My advice, you want to be a great writer, start be being a great reader. Then read some more, go out and experience life up close so it slaps you in the kisser a few times. Then you'll have something to write about. And that's not a LOL.
Dalae
Wow, great post, Lea! Yeah, being a Mom is 24/7. But I'm glad your Muse is on the loud side.
I started writing about ten years ago. I had smashed my wrists in a car wreck and it looked like I'd never be able play the violin again. And 20 years before that my 'good' violin was stolen during a trip to Chicago. (Yeah, I know it sounds like a B-movie plot, but I was studying to be a symphony musician.) I thought the accident had to be the last straw, clearly I would never be a musician. I was depressed and needed to find something creative to do so I wrote.
I wrote a bunch of short stories, didn't get anything sold. I wrote four novels, two are not half bad.
But something interesting happened. I stayed away from the violin for years. I couldn't even go into a store where violin music played over the loudspeaker without crying.
But 3 years ago I got the idea for a story about a violinist investigating the death of his brother. It went to Coach's Midnight Diner where it won an Editors Choice Award. After writing the story I decided to pull out the cheap little violin someone had given me a long time ago...just to try. My hands hurt, but not like they before. So I practiced, picked up playing jobs..my hands quit hurting and I kept writing.
I started writing stories dealing with haunted violins and violinists. Two more of the violin short stories were picked up for publication. So naturally, I'm writing a novel.
But, you know what's cool? My really nice violin that was stolen...and the theft was 30 years ago...I found that same violin in 2009 on E-bay. Max, my violin, was taken in September 1979 and came home October 2009. And this fall I start playing with the Naples Orchestra...
...and I'm still keep writing.
Yeah, long story for a short post, Lol!
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