As found here. Happy Friday.
It’s 4:44 a.m. and I’ve been up for an hour. Writing. I’m probably going to end up sleepwalking through the rest of the day, but right now I am so blissed out I can hardly stand myself. The last few weeks have been so amazingly productive for me. It’s as if someone flipped my switch back on. Which is really unusual, since 1) I’m never productive in the summer, and 2) I have a toddler and an infant in the house. And yet lately, I’ve been able to sink so deeply into my writing that I forget where I am or what time it is. As a result, I finished my novel. It’s some kind of miracle. What a wonderful luxury to be able to tune out the world and retreat completely into my “writing head.” It happens so rarely anymore that I’m able to appreciate and savor every second of it. And to think I used to take it for granted.
We’ve never really talked about our husbands and the role they play in our creative process, but I think it’s important to mention, even though I find it difficult to describe what role that is. It’s easy to take them for granted too. My husband is an engineer, with zero interest in or appreciation for the type of writing I do. He’s at a complete loss when I ask him about a certain character’s tone and he doesn’t have a clue how one goes about querying an agent. On the one hand, I feel utterly and devastatingly alone in my writing. It is my thing. He doesn’t get it.
But on the other hand, he loved me enough to marry me, so he obviously has a deep appreciation for my writer’s view of the world, my turn of phrase, and the way I communicate with him. He puts up with my clutter and the mountains of paper that I generate. Leaves me in peace when I’m hard at work. Reminds me to eat when I loose track of time. Watches the boys. Supports me financially so that I can stay home and play novelist. Listens to my concerns and tells me everything will work out. Understands the importance of laptops and writing spaces, and if he doesn’t, he humors me anyway. Truly wants me to succeed.
All of these things make my writing life possible, and are little luxuries and miracles too.