It’s been a while. Ages actually. I’d originally wanted to be done with my book by now, but life had other plans.
I feel like the seasons outside my window are displaying my life; the last is fading and a new one is rushing at me. I’m looking at the months on the calendar and realizing that there is so much that is going to be changing in the next five months.
I dropped my littlest off for two full days at school this week. They had a field trip to the zoo one day, and a field day for P.E. the other. But I pulled up and she jumped out pig-tails swinging, and then I was faced with seven (7….7….7….) hours of nothing. Solitude, household chores, and whatever else I could fit into seven hours.
I started out on this motherhood journey nearly 12 years ago…finding out we were pregnant in the middle of the summer with our first baby. And for the last twelve years that’s all I’ve wanted to do. Now I find myself thinking that the most time-intensive part of that journey is nearly over. It is so incredibly….weird, awful, terrifying, and to be honest just a little bit exciting.
I didn’t set out to do anything else. I got a degree in college primarily as a back-up plan. Plan B , as needed. I didn’t want to work full-time. I wanted to be mom full-time. I’ve been so thankful that I’ve been able to be mom full-time. Finding space in there to do some accounting, and more recently to start writing. I don’t know how to wrap my head around the possibilities, the options and choices I’m staring down. The road is forking and I feel like I have to choose which direction to take. I have to say that it is more than just a little bit overwhelming. I think I’m a little strange in that I didn’t think past having little kids at home. I didn’t plan for what I wanted to do after that. I assumed I’d do something, but I truly haven’t put much thought into what that would be.
Now, I feel like I’m back in my senior year of high school, having to make all these decisions for my future again. I thought I was done with that, but now all these years (yes, too many) later, I’m thinking through all those things again. Where do I want to be in ten years? What do I want to have accomplished in fifteen years?
The only thing I want to be able to say for sure is that I’ve at least finished this book I’m writing now. I’m not sure how good it is, or if people will ever want to read it. But, I want to be able to say I finished it.
There are some things I’m planning to move that way. There’s a writer’s group that the goal is to finish your manuscript in 100 days that I’m going to join. It opens up again this summer, and my goal is to have the first draft actually done before I start, so we’re working through revisions and corrections. My time writing has been so sporadic, every other week around my other job(s), that I haven’t felt like I had the freedom to devote 100 straight days to completing it. I crossed 55,000 words though, the other day, and I think I’ll be ready for when the group opens up again this summer.
Then, the part comes that I have no clue how to do, or even approach really. Once it’s done, I get to try to figure out publishing. Yikes.
In reality, it’s kind of like finding out twelve years ago that we were going to have a baby. I didn’t know how to do that either, and we’ve managed to muddle our way through that. I can be resourceful. Hopefully.