Cathy: Waiting game
Finally, I got into a pretty good groove working on the manuscript. I do still seem to go in fits and starts, but at least there’s progress. I’m no longer caught up in how do I get from here…to there? Now I know what I want to see from here to there. I got past the hump of being afraid of my own voice, especially going into split personality mode in order to write for the characters. Believe it or not, I even got past the I’m not good enough/who do you think you are/who wants to hear what you have to say voice.
Now I wait when I’m not actively writing. I wait for Baby C to nap. I wait for my mother-in-law to not play a particularly noisy computer game. I wait for the boys to go find something else to do or be in school, so I don’t have to constantly field arguments or wait for the inevitable explosion if I leave them to settle it themselves. I wait for my dear S to stop “Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. Mom. (- yes, S -) When I make my spaceship for K and I to travel through the galaxies in, there’s not going to be enough room for you to come too.” I wait for the dog to stop begging for attention, and I wait for no one to bug me about anything to do with the house. I wait for K to stop coming over saying, “Are you gonna be done soon, so I can check my email/write in Word/do this assignment from an online text?” for the fourth or fifth time in the past hour. I wait for Honey to come home and take Baby C and the boys elsewhere for just another thirty minutes, please.
And I wait for the inspiration I feel in my head and heart to find my fingers. That little behind the gut butterfly shows me images in my head, but isn’t ready to come out of its own chrysalis just yet. By the way, the last of those monarch caterpillars left my yard about a week after the first five. I wait for the leaves to show the first inkling of changing the season from summer to fall. I wait and realize I have never given myself this much patience before.