An essay, a Mid-term, a Research Paper and a Little Fantasy Thrown in For Good Measure!

I tapped out a 1200 word literature essay this morning. At least the thoughts flowed easily onto the page and I was able to support my thesis without having to pull my hair out. The subject was poetry, and I am more of a prose type girl. I'm a little out of my element with poetry. All the metaphors make me batty, I must admit. I never could, and still can't figure out why writings dripping with vague allusions and obscure references are so exalted. I guess writers writing down what they want to communicate in a way that leaves no room for interpretation is not as artsy. Whatever. At least the essay about the artsy poetry is complete .

I have an American literature mid-term tomorrow, and no sooner do I finish that than I need to dig into my English literature research paper. I have yet to choose my topic. Rest assured it will not be poetry.

I worked a little bit in my novel length wip, world and language building mostly. I already have most of the world stuff completed - history, magic, creatures, conflicts between races, and most of the spiritual backbone in place. The language is more daunting. I never thought creating a language would be so time consuming, but it is. I am using elements of several different human languages, some of them ancient, to create a believable "original" language that is spoken as the native tongue of the ancient race in my story. Anyway, I am sure that I am doing it all wrong - breaking rules and whatnot, but for me it is working.

What I am not doing is randomly throwing together words. I am careful about how I develop each new word, and I have already gone back and altered or even completely changed a few of them when I find something different works better. This has turned out to be far more complex an undertaking than I originally anticipated. Isn't that the way of it though?

I hope to get more done tonight, but it is already getting late and I still need to read an entire chapter in my Biology text. Maybe I will learn something about genetics that can be incorporated into the history of one of my "worlds." One can always hope ;)

I Wrote! I Wrote! I Wrote!!!!!

I finally did it. I set aside my studies for a few precious hours and dedicated that time to writing in one of my novel length wips!!! It was so nice to get back to my characters. I've missed them so. I mean, they are with me every day, I'm always thinking about ways to further develop them and the plot, but to actually sit and just write them is heaven. What was interesting was that I had been at an interesting turning point in my world building at the last point I left the manuscript. After rereading just that small section before adding to it last night, I was able to fill in some holes and through doing that I wound up in a place where I can add an antagonistic device. Sweet! It needed that little something extra there, and now, not only is it going to get it, it is going to tie in seamlessly.

I must have been in creative mode major. Not only was I able to write last night, I woke up this morning with a vivid recollection of the most amazing dream. I dreamt an entire story, characters and all from beginning to end. I've always been able to dream certain aspects of a story - a characterization, a plot - something, but never an entire story. This definitely marked a "first" for me. My daughter invited my niece for a sleepover last night, and they came in my room this morning and jumped on my bed to wake me up. It must have been just at the completion of this dream. Talk about timing. I think maybe if they hadn't woke me, I might not have remembered the dream at all.

Anyway, I immediately went into my office to write out the outline of what I remembered. I didn't even put on a pot of coffee first. I was too concerned that I would lose some of what I was remembering. Thank goodness the kids weren't hungry for breakfast at that moment. So now I have this entirely new story sketched out and I am literally itching to write it.

The thing that is frustrating is that I already have two manuscripts that I am trying to complete. I really should not start another, especially considering the time constraints of my schedule. I have about twenty-five chapters down in one of my wips and ten or so in the other. I really need to complete at least one before I begin another.

I took the kids to the beach for a while this afternoon and met a friend of mine there with her daughter. After I told her about the dream I had she said she wondered if maybe I should concentrate on the new, dreamt story because it came to me in such a way. I don't know. I'd hate to put priority on it simply because it was "given to me," as my friend put it.

One thing is certain. I wrote. And obviously it fired off some creative neurons or something in my brain because after that I wrote in my sleep.

This is a Test...

Well, since I'm in the midst of summer session mid-term hell, it seems like I spend every spare moment studying for a test. At least I got a little break today at a big family cookout. It was actually a pretty near perfect day, with tons of laughter, great food and lots of swimming. I began the day by accompanying my daughter to a friend's birthday party. Ten seven year olds bowling and drinking way too much soda, but they had a great time. I coach several of the girls who were in attendance, including the birthday girl.

I think that probably the best part of a child being on a team is that they can always count on their teammates to attend their birthday parties. Several weeks ago my daughter went to a party for a school friend and she was the only invited guest to show up. The poor mother of the kid was distraught. She'd planned the party for weeks and sent out the invitations early, had it at a really fun indoor basketball gym adjacent to a popular park, but still... no one came. I talked with her at length about considering enrolling her son in a team sport of some kind. A week later it was my own daughter's birthday. I held her party at the gymnastics facility where I coach. Of course, we invited tons of kids, including her friend from school whose party was all but ruined from lack of attendance. I felt so bad for his mother, because when she saw how many kids came to my daughter's party, she was awe struck.

We invited thirty-five children to my daughter's party and of those, thirty-three showed up. Of the two who couldn't make it, one was sick and the other had to go away for the weekend. The mom who had been so upset at her son's party, has told me several times since my daughter's big day, that she has never in her life seen anything like my daughter's party. She couldn't get over the turn out of kids. But I explained to her that of the kids who attended, only three were school friends, the rest are all my daughter's teammates and that my daughter's birthday parties are like that every year.

I ran into that mother yesterday while shopping for a birthday present for the party we attended today. She told me she signed her son up for baseball camp and plans on keeping him in a team sport. Then she asked me how I, a single parent, finds the time to be a writer, go to school and coach gymnastics. I told her that it's not easy. I work my tail off, and right now my writing is suffering from the time crunch. But I wouldn't change the coaching part. I do that so I can spend time with my child. I do that because if I didn't coach I couldn't afford to have my daughter in such an expensive sport. But the main reason I coach is that through doing it I am able to give my child a team experience that you simply cannot put a price on. She is having the time of her life, making lasting friendships and memories that will stay with her long after she stops doing back hand springs.

Could I write more if I didn't coach? Sure. Would it be worth the trade off? That is a test that I wouldn't risk failing.

And then there was no time to write...

No time! No time! Ugh! It is frustrating, just how tight my schedule has been. Here I am, going to school to advance my writing career, but the irony is that my school schedule is so demanding that is leaves me literally no time to write. I haven't written a thing in either of my manuscripts in close to a month. A month! My poor blog has so much dust accumulating in it that it fairly resembles an old abandoned western town complete with tumbleweed. This is not for lack of desire to write. I miss it so much I could cry - and just might - at any minute.

I know, I know... I did this to myself. It wasn't demanding enough to go to school full-time throughout the year, no, I had to go an enroll in a mind-numbing SIX classes during the six week summer semesters. At least I am thankful that I had the presence of mind to include two literature classes in that mix. I'm taking English lit and American lit currently, so the quickie semester is not without its rewards. However, the pace of the reading and work output is some where between break-neck speed and warp-speed, depending on the day and the course requirement.

So, what is a writer to do when she can't write? You, know I have tried throwing a hissy fit but all it did was exasperate me. Obviously that didn't help. I didn't even have time to write about it afterward, it was too time consuming. I've taken to writing character motivations and plot ideas in the margins of my notebooks while I sit through a lecture or when I'm studying, but since I am not then going into my manuscripts to actually write, all those ideas are stagnating.

I can't stay up any later to write. I'm already studying till the wee hours every night. There is no way I am waking up any earlier either. I think the only possible solution is to pick one evening a week - probably Friday nights - and give myself a four hour window to do nothing else but work in my manuscripts. I gotta do something or I'm gonna wind up slamming myself upside the head with one of my massive lit books. I just hope that I don't get caught up in procrastination and use the four hours to watch television or clean my house.

This boggles me. I haven't gone this long without actively writing in I can't even recall how many years. I've always been the writer who found the time, made the time, created the time, and put the world on hold (inasmuch as I could) to ensure the time. This is alien territory for me. This really not having two minutes to rub together to write creatively is like a heavy weight that threatens to suffocate me if I do not find a way to lift it.

I've heard other writers lament about a lack of time so very often through the years, but I never really empathized until now. I used to think there was no way they really didn't have time. That they must be procrastinating, and I am still convinced that in many cases they were putting off their writing. But now I see how a person can literally box themselves into a corner with their schedule until they've worked their fingers to the bone, and then there was no time to write.

That prospect is so disconcerting that I am determined to rail against it until I've eked out enough time to write every week. I feel like such a poser. If I allow myself to become a writer who doesn't write - what will that make me? An antiwriter, a wannabe. No. I need to reign in my schedule before it consumes all of my creativity to the point that I have forgotten why I started writing in the first place. I started because I had to. Because the muse wouldn't sleep. Because I love it.

But then I started back to school, because I wanted to become a better writer, and then there was no time to write.