Enjoying the Good Life
As a working writer (one who has a full time day job) vacations are for writing. Or at least in theory. I never leave for a week long vacation without my laptop or at least a legal pad of paper an pen (a writing pen.... there is a difference). And as stupid as it is, I have an expectation to write. Even with goals larger than what I typically write.
Do I follow through? Rarely. I tend to spend too many hours in a car (this time it was 14+) or on a plane. And of course chasing my toddler around to make sure he is minding his manners. This vacation was no exception. In fact, I don't think I sat down long enough to eat a full meal--so writing time was next to nothing.
Oh sure. I could make time. But was I going to give up that extra snack on to-die-for brownies, or that cold alcoholic drink on the rocks? Or one last chance to talk to cousins or friends I hadn't seen in over a year? Hell no! It is vacation of course. And a vacation that, for once, kept its promise of nice warm weather and sunshine. Simply put, I didn't write a thing until today. When I should be courting laundry machines and making a homeade meal for family.
Normally one might see this as a bad career habit. For me, it is likely fueling the fire for a month of writing til my fingers bleed. At least that is what I hope. But as with most professions, I need a break. A long extended break which allows my brain to wander, rest, and have a lot of play time. And boy did I get it. Hell, nine days with no Internet access or espresso coffee shops within a 100 mile radius, and extended family time (I mean extra all the family I would ever want to see under one roof)-- one couldn't take more time away. And not once did I think I *should* be writing.
Until yesterday. When I should have at least jotted down the notes that had burned holes into my brain passages while traveling. Or those future ideas that played in my mind just before sleep on half the nights. Or the blogging fodder that had me chuckling to myself during the various holiday festivities. However, I had better things to do. Like sleep. And play Mom. Only Mom. I've learned to follow my instincts this far in life--I know the good ideas will come back. Eventually. And everyone needs a good time. Even a night-time writer.
Do I follow through? Rarely. I tend to spend too many hours in a car (this time it was 14+) or on a plane. And of course chasing my toddler around to make sure he is minding his manners. This vacation was no exception. In fact, I don't think I sat down long enough to eat a full meal--so writing time was next to nothing.
Oh sure. I could make time. But was I going to give up that extra snack on to-die-for brownies, or that cold alcoholic drink on the rocks? Or one last chance to talk to cousins or friends I hadn't seen in over a year? Hell no! It is vacation of course. And a vacation that, for once, kept its promise of nice warm weather and sunshine. Simply put, I didn't write a thing until today. When I should be courting laundry machines and making a homeade meal for family.
Normally one might see this as a bad career habit. For me, it is likely fueling the fire for a month of writing til my fingers bleed. At least that is what I hope. But as with most professions, I need a break. A long extended break which allows my brain to wander, rest, and have a lot of play time. And boy did I get it. Hell, nine days with no Internet access or espresso coffee shops within a 100 mile radius, and extended family time (I mean extra all the family I would ever want to see under one roof)-- one couldn't take more time away. And not once did I think I *should* be writing.
Until yesterday. When I should have at least jotted down the notes that had burned holes into my brain passages while traveling. Or those future ideas that played in my mind just before sleep on half the nights. Or the blogging fodder that had me chuckling to myself during the various holiday festivities. However, I had better things to do. Like sleep. And play Mom. Only Mom. I've learned to follow my instincts this far in life--I know the good ideas will come back. Eventually. And everyone needs a good time. Even a night-time writer.
