I’ve been very remiss about blogging lately, and the “why” of it is pretty simple–life keeps getting in the way.
I broke my ankle this summer. I hosted my daughter’s bridal shower. I finished a book, started another book, stopped working on that book when copy edits for a different one arrived, finished those only to be stopped dead again by a request for a first chapter to go in the back of yet another book, a first chapter I hadn’t written for a book I’d didn’t even have an idea for.
And all this got me to thinking. Back in the day before I was published (oh, so long ago!), this wasn’t how I imagined a writing life. That was more in the way of calmly sitting in front of the computer as the words flowed, taking leisurely walks to plot, meeting with writing friends–at a charming little bistro, of course–to discuss our ideas and our skyrocketing careers.
When I stopped laughing, I realized that’s never going to happen. I also realized that it’s these sorts of life interruptions that separate the casual writers from the pros.
I know a USA Today bestselling author who had knee surgery this summer–and kept on writing.
I know a wildly popular Harlequin Desire author who moved across country, is holed up in a hotel until her new house is ready to move into–and keeps writing.
I know authors who’ve written books at their kitchen tables, and authors who’ve pushed on through their own and family illness. I know authors who’ve overcome huge problems in their lives and still met their deadlines.
Without ignoring the needs of family and friends, without discounting the importance of childrens’ activities and school obligations, these writers keep at it.
I tip my hat to every one of them.
And now I’m getting back to work.