The Tortured Writer Starts her Craft

Despite my harried rantings last year about my writing life being over before it started due to mix ups with daycare days, all has been sorted, and I humbly beg your forgiveness. 

And so I find myself today without my beautiful children, as the Blonde Bombshell and Miss Curly Mop are both safely ensconced at daycare.

In theory, this is my first day of work as a writer.  In theory I am at liberty to do my homework, read books, write blogs, plan my novel and seek work experience.  In theory I have a full, uninterrupted day to gather inspiration, nurture my craft and purge it into the void.  I have been waiting for this day for months.

Unfortunately I had not counted on today being the first day that the builders need to access the inside of my house.  It's one thing to have them crawling over the scaffolding and banging in the roof space.  It's an entirely different matter to have them wandering through my living room and pausing to chat each time they walk past me at my computer.

I don't know how this 'working from home' thing is going to go while my 'office' is at the kitchen table and the room next door is ground zero for dust, noise and tradesmen's crack (aka builder's bum).  However, if I plan on being a tortured writer (and what's the point of being a writer if you aren't tortured), I suppose having to deal with adversity and distraction (and dust) will only add to the pain and as a result, the finished product.

 

The Smallest Room in the House has Some of the Biggest Secrets

I pride myself on covering the important issues in life, writing about the big ticket items that affect us all, and make us who we are.

So it is with this in mind I ask you this very serious question: are you roll forward or a roll backward person? 

I was availing myself of the facilities this morning in the bathroom my husband usually uses (he doesn't seem to like sharing with us girls) and I noticed the toilet roll had been changed so that it hung down the back of the roll (towards the wall).  I noticed this because the last time I was in there I had changed it so the paper hung forward over the front of the roll.  Just like I do every time I am in there.

I do it almost without realising. I would never change the roll in someone else's house, but at home I am switching the rolls practically every day.

And I have to do this, because my husband obviously switches it back practically every day.

It's not something we ever discuss.  In the ten years we have been living together, we have never discussed the fact that practically every day both of us manically and obsessively change the direction in which the toilet rolls hang.  Is this completely mad, or are there others out there who do the same?

And I'm not sure what's weirder: the fact that we change the rolls or the fact that we have probably been doing it for the past decade, without realising it and without discussing it.

Stay tuned, next week the important topics will continue: are you a folder or a scruncher?

(Not So) Young Achievers Australia

2011 is going to be a good year for me, I can feel it in my bones.

I feel so energized: mentally, physically and emotionally.  There is a palpable excitement. The creative juices are flowing and creating a small puddle on the floor.

Last year sucked, despite some pretty high highlights (the birth of my second daughter and lots of new babies for friends and family, hubby passing some pretty significant exams).  Not terribly eloquent, I know, but it did.  It sucked.  If I were the queen I would call it annus horribilis.

It was a year of natural disasters - the hail storm, the drought, the heat. 

It was a year of car accidents.

It was a year of building mess, delays, disappointments.

It was a year of household stress, with some very grumpy householders.

It was a year of no sleep.

But 2011 will be different.  This year will be all about me, and a happy mum means a happy household.  Right?

My university course starts in two months, so to tide me over until March I have enrolled in an online writing course through The Sydney Writers Centre, and not one but two UWA Extension Courses on writing.  I have my meeting with the writing coach in a couple of weeks, and as soon as my little darlings are back at daycare, I plan to chase up some work experience and start writing.

I think the problem with last year is that I felt I did not achieve anything.  Sure, there is the obvious and very important achievements of birthing and raising two beautiful children, and maintaining friendships with all the special people in my life.  I washed the clothes and did the dishes and even got the car serviced.  But there was very little of me in 2010.

That began to change with this very blog and one amazing day doing the How To Be a Blogger For Fun and Profit course.  I have kept my promise to write at least two blogs every week, and I hope to increase that this year as the juices flow over and threaten to flood this corner of the kitchen where I write my words and start my new literary life.

Bye Bye Baby

With my finger poised over the button I felt that lurch in my stomach, that heavy feeling in my heart that accompanies mother guilt. 

I was about to book a four day, three night visit to the other side of the country.  Without my family.  Just me. 

How would they cope without me?  Would my baby cry night and day without her mummy?  Would my three and a half year old lose the plot and act out at Kindy?  Would my husband feed them a diet of Burger Rings and chocolate custard?  Or would he just farm them out to the grandparents?

I had to tell myself not to be ridiculous.  They probably wouldn't even notice.  They didn't notice yesterday when I was gone for hours to see a movie.  They were quite cranky with me when I returned home, but apparently had been angels while I was away.

I pressed the button and booked my flights. 

I also bought travel insurance just in case I need to cancel or reschedule.

Please don't misunderstand, I am very excited about this trip.  Not only is Sydney one of my favourite destinations, but I will be staying with one of my favourite friends.  There will be food and wine and shopping, not to mention the glorious four hour flight completely alone, with nothing but complimentary wine, airline food and a movie to watch (small pleasures, I know).

But it is hard leaving my babies.  Being away from them leaves a gaping hole.  I cannot ever fully relax or fully concentrate knowing I am so far away. 

I can only dread the anxiety I will experience when my girls are older, and all of a sudden I have to worry about them being far away (and boys and cars and drugs and bullying and body image and wanting to dress like Lady Ga Ga).

But for tonight I am home with my family, and knowing they are safely tucked up in bed fills me with satisfaction and security and a deep sense of sentiment.

No Sex Please, We're British

Today I joined my parents to see The King's Speech at the movies.  Cool hey.  I love spending time with my parents without my children, it reminds me I am a daughter as well as a Mum. I may well have been the youngest person in the theatre by a decade or more, but I have been buzzing all afternoon.  It was a fantastic film.  Really enjoyed it.

Yes:
- it was a true story (which I love)
- had some of my favourite actors (Colin Firth and Geoffrey Rush)
- and it was actually pretty funny (King to speech dude who is sitting on the throne: 'Get up, you can't sit there! GET UP'  Speech dude: 'Why not, it's a chair?'). 

But why I am buzzing is not because of what was in the film, but rather what was absent.  There were no special effects, no 3D glasses, no violence, no sex, no digital animation.  Yes, there was plenty of swearing, but it was of historical relevance (and it was damn funny).

In short, this was a film, a story, of words and about words.  It was simply the combination of a good storyline, some powerful writing, and some brilliant acting.  It did not rely on technological trickery, its strength lies in its story.

And that excites me.  It excites me because I hope one day to be involved, even in the periphery, in this amazing world of clever stories and beautiful writing.

Realistic Resolutions

I can't actually remember the last time I celebrated the dawn of the New Year.  I suspect it was very early last decade, BK (Before Kids).

I also can't remember the last time I made a New Year's Resolution I had any intention of keeping.

Probably 90% of people's goals include: 'lose weight', 'cut down on booze and/or chocolate', 'get fit', 'win the lotto'... if people were actually serious about doing these things, they wouldn't need to wait until January 1st to get started.

I would like to lose weight, cut down on booze and chocolate, get fit and win the lotto.  I'd really like that. 

But I am not resolved to go and actually do any of those things short of occasionally buying a lotto ticket or heading to the gym with my friend for a chat and a brisk walk on the treadmill.

So I see little point in sitting around on New Years Eve writing a list of goals I can't possibly achieve. 

However If I was going to write a list of resolutions I planned on keeping it might include the following:

* try and not eat so much chocolate that you actually gain more weight
* if you are going to drink too much wine, make sure it's actually nice wine that you like
* ditto for chocolate
* don't make dodgy excuses for why you can't go to the gym.  If you're going to make excuses, they have to be really creative
* read at least one story to at least one of my children at least every day (or three)
* write something every day, even if it's just a list of things you want to write about
* weed the garden sometime before June
* stop complaining about how small the new walk-in-robe is, it's probably perfect for the very small number of clothes that actually still fit.